


Be My Escape

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: Felicity meets an attractive bartender one night after a failure of a date, but their pasts are more connected than either of them realize.





	1. Your Heart Never Found a Home

**Author's Note:**

> The rating might eventually change to M for smut, just so y'all know!

A blind date. 

She should have known that it was a bad idea. She hates blind dates, but Iris had been nagging her about Ray Palmer for weeks. So she'd agreed to go, simply because she wanted her best friend to stop bugging her.

Dating hadn't really been an interest of hers for the last five years. The men she did go out with were safe, chosen with the idea that if they left, it wouldn't hurt.

Ray was nice enough, their conversation had been engaging with plenty of common interests between them. It was fine.

The problem was that she was sick of fine. It had been five years since the death of her boyfriend. And she'd lived those five years content with casual dating, not wanting anything deeper and she didn't mind walking away if a guy did. When dating got to the point of defining things, putting labels on what they were doing, that was when she would back out.

But now, as she stood in her dark kitchen with a pint of ice cream in front of her, alone...she wanted something a little better than fine. With a sigh, she put the carton of ice cream back into the freezer. Ice cream was fine, too. But tonight she felt like she needed something a little stronger. 

Grabbing her coat, she threw it back on, sliding into her heels again. She'd dressed casually for her date; jeans, cute shirt, heels. Simple. They had agreed to have the date in a low-key restaurant, after all. Her favorite restaurant. But apparently Ray Palmer had a very different definition of low-key, since he'd shown up in a suit.

Once they'd gotten past the awkwardness of their attire...it wasn't the worst date. But it wasn't the best, either. It was _fine_. God, she was sick of that word. She was tired of dating without plans, never looking too far into the future. She wanted someone to make her heart race, that could made her feel alive. The idea of that used to terrify her, hence her lackluster dating life. But she knew that her choices had less to do with Cooper's death and more to do with her fears.

As she walked down the stairs of her apartment building, she wasn't quite sure what had caused the change of heart. She hadn't given much of herself to anyone since Cooper died, and she'd been okay with that.  

Pulling her phone out of her pocket as it rang, Felicity climbed into a cab and answered it. "Well hello there, little matchmaker."

Iris squealed, "Does that mean you had fun!?"

"Uh," Felicity hesitated, waving the driver to head downtown. "It was fine." She winced at the word. "I don't think I'll go out with him again though." She said, letting out a noise of indifference when her best friend pressed for details.

"Oh, Felicity!" Iris groaned, "I really thought you would like him!"

"I did," Felicity argued, feeling a little defensive. "He was nice. Actually, he seemed pretty much perfect for me. Too perfect."

"So what's the problem?" Iris asked, incredulous.

"He was basically me in a man's body!"

"I know!" Iris yelled back, "That was the point!"

Felicity rolled her eyes. "He was safe, Iris. I guess I'm just tired of being safe. I want to be...I don't know, excited. I want to take risks. I want to be unsafe."

"Oh-kaaaay," Iris said, "Well, not too unsafe, right?"

"Are you about to give me a safe sex talk?"

Iris snorted, "Do I need to? You've spent five years in robot-mode and I'm not sure you've had good sex in just as long." Felicity snorted, sex had become a means to an end for her. Get the job done and get out. Good enough. "Your vibrator doesn't count." Iris clipped.

"Iris!" She hissed, glancing at the driver even though she knew he couldn't hear it. "I have _company_...sometimes." She saw the driver glance in his mirror at her and she felt her face flush. "Oh, I hate you."

"Should we celebrate this newfound courage?" Iris asked, ignoring her.

"I'm actually in a cab right now. I was just going to get a drink and do some soul searching. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel more like celebrating."

"Okay," Iris sighed, "call me if you need me."

"I know. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sounds great. I love you, bye!"

Felicity chuckled, "Love you too," she muttered just before Iris hung up. 

Seeing a bar she'd visited a couple of times, she told the driver to stop, paying him before she got out.

It was called Poison, and she was pretty sure she and Iris had wandered in there once or twice, since it stayed open all night and closed during the day. If she remembered correctly, it was full of dark lighting, pool tables, ripped furniture and that perpetually smokey air that was typical of bars such as this one. But it was comfortable and usually pretty quiet thanks to its dive bar status.

Perfect.

She walked in and was glad to only see a few people in there. A couple was playing pool, there was a group drinking in one of the booths, and three people sat at the bar. Stepping inside, Felicity took in her surroundings, her gaze focusing on the bartender as the door closed behind her. He glanced up as she came in, looked at her passively at first. But then his eyes met hers, lingering there for a moment. She held her breath. 

Wow. He was sexy.

She froze, staring into his eyes for a long moment. And then he brought his attention back to the older man who looked like the definition of a "regular". She glanced around the bar, the kind of place that you could drink alone and not be bothered.

Sitting down on a stool at the opposite side of the bar as the other customers, she glanced at the bartender again, watching as he nodded to the man and poured him another drink. He checked on the other two people sitting at in front of him, getting them beers before he slowly made his way to her.

Oh, she was definitely staring. But it was impossible not to. He had short dark hair, a slight beard, and piercing blue eyes that made her feel like he could see her every secret. He was dressed casually in a gray t-shirt and dark jeans, and he held her gaze as he approached. "Bad night?" He asked quietly when he finally stood in front of her on the opposite side of the bar.

"What?"

"You look like you've had a bad night." He said, putting both of his hands on the wood of the bar. She hesitated, glancing down at his fingers. Didn't bartenders usually just ask what you wanted to drink?

"Bad _date_ ," she sighed and rolled her eyes. She put both of her elbows onto the bar, resting her head on her hands. "It's complicated." She said, slumping her shoulders.

His lips formed in the slightest smile, "Always is."

"Got any tequila back there?"

He raised an eyebrow, but set a shot glass in front of her before reaching for a bottle. He didn't ask what she preferred, but somehow pulled down her favorite kind. Damn, bartender intuition was real. Felicity held her finger up to him after he set the lime over her glass, knocking it back and sucking on the fruit quickly, her face twisting. She tapped her finger on the glass, biting her lip. "One more?"

The bartender raised his eyebrow again, but poured her another shot.

She let him go after that, turning the glass over the top of the bar and watching as he retreated. Having a hard time keeping her eyes off of him, she watched as he cleaned some things up, reorganizing his bottles and talking with the other people there.

An hour passed, and Felicity had three more shots, talking with the bartender casually ever time he came over to pour her another drink. After five of them, she was feeling great. Leaning on the bar, she squished her cheek on her palm and played with her empty glass with her other hand. She checked her phone and saw a text from Iris, asking to meet for coffee in the morning. She agreed quickly, typing back with minimal spelling errors.

When he came back over to her, she asked for another, and he hesitated. "What?" She asked with her best flirty smile, "You don't think I can handle it?"

He pinched his lips together, "Do you have someone that's bringing you home?" He asked.

"The wonderful cab services of Starling City should do."

He continued to stare at her for a moment, leaning a little closer, but then he poured her more tequila. And he straightened, shaking his head as he watched her take the shot. She sighed as she slumped back down to the bar, adding her sixth glass to her little pyramid. Just as he was about to walk away she asked, "Do you ever feel like you've been sleeping through your life? And then something just hits you, and you realize that you don't want to be sleeping anymore?"

The bartender leaned towards her, resting his elbows on the bar. "Sure I do." He said softly, "Everyone wants their life to mean more." He said with a shrug. His face coming in close to hers like they were sharing a secret.

Maybe they were.

It felt intimate, and Felicity's eyes darted between his. His full attention was focused on her as he leaned over the bar. "Holy crap." She breathed, "You're hot."

He pulled back slightly, unable to fight the smile that spread across his face. Felicity cringed, glancing above his head at the tiny, singular television. The news was muted, but she recognized the familiar sketch that seemed to be on every TV in town. The moment seemed to have passed, and she sighed as he wiped down the bar top. "I bet _he_ doesn't have to deal with an identity crisis."

The bartender's eyes followed her gaze, and then he slowly brought it back down to her, his expression guarded. "Why do you say that?"

She sighed, "He saves people...helps the city. He puts the bad guys behind bars. He has a purpose...you know?" She could see how intently the bartender was staring at her, but she just shrugged. "It seems to me like The Hood knows exactly who he is."

"Maybe it's not that simple. Maybe it never really is." He responded, his voice low as he watched her attentively.

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him, "Are you doing that thing where you're the sympathetic bartender with enlightened wisdom, and I'm the lonely patron who finds all of life's answers at the bottom of a bottle?"

Without taking his eyes from hers, without reacting at all he asked, "Depends...are you lonely?"

Felicity inhaled, keeping his gaze. "We all are, aren't we?" She asked with a sad shrug. She asked like it was a rhetorical question, but she waited anyway, silently hoping that he'd confirm it. She didn't know the first thing about him or his life, but she felt something inside of her connecting with something inside of him.

If she was right, he was just as lonely as she was.

He slowly nodded, his eyes softening, and she leaned closer. "We're all a little broken." She whispered, enthralled by the sadness in his gorgeous blue eyes. "The _world_  is a little broken," she said with a slight shrug. And then she took a deep breath, breaking their gaze. "Computers I understand."

The bartender seemed surprised by her sudden switch of conversation, but he waited, watching her with what she thought was intrigue. But she wasn't intriguing. If she was coming across as intriguing or alluring to him in any way, it must have been the tequila's fault. "Computers have pieces," she sighed, looking down at her hands, "and those pieces get put together to make the technology work. When a piece is broken, you fix it or you replace it. Your computer works again, problem solved. People aren't so simple."

He leaned closer as she spoke, his eyes taking her in, glancing over her features without apology. "What's your name?" He asked softly, his face only inches from hers.

"Felicity." She breathed, biting her lip as she felt her heart begin to race. "Yours?"

"I'm Tommy."


	2. Will You Stay?

Waking up with a hangover was one thing. Waking up hungover in an unfamiliar apartment was something completely different. Felicity groaned as she turned over, finding herself in the bed alone. She glanced around the room, realizing that she had no idea how she'd gotten there. Slowly lifting the white comforter and pink blanket she was tangled up in, she glanced down at her body. 

Then she squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to remember how she ended up in a random bed wearing only her bra and a pair of men's sweatpants. Feeling fear rising in her throat at the strange surroundings, she carefully climbed out of the bed and looked for her shoes. Her heels sat neatly by the door, and she picked them up quickly, feeling like she looked ridiculous because of the sweatpants. 

She had no idea where her jeans or shirt had ended up, and after checking under the bed and in the adjacent bathroom, she sighed and grabbed the pink blanket, wrapping it around herself. "Okay," she muttered, tiptoeing her way to the giant sliding barn door.

It wasn't quiet, rumbling as she slid it open. So she cracked it just enough to slip out and then...she collided with a chest. With a huff, she stumbled back, but a pair of arms steadied her. "Oh!" Her eyes widened as she looked up at the man in front of her. "Oh, wow. Sexy bartender." She blurted, her eyes roaming down. "Shirtless...sexy bartender."

"You liked to call me that when you were drunk, too."

She glanced around the loft apartment she was in, noting that it was large and open, with tall windows for plenty of light and a view of the city. It suited him, from what she could remember. Easy. Quiet. Beautiful.

Wait.

"Um..." she hesitated, pulling the blanket tighter and reminding herself where she was. Well, rather, the fact that she was dressed in a blanket and seemingly in the apartment of a sexy bartender. "Where am I?"

His eyebrows shot up, "You don't remember coming up here?" She shook her head, and he raked his hand through his hair. "Do you remember anything?"

"I remember tequila."

His jaw clenched, "Yeah, I cut you off. But then some college kids came in and started buying them for you." She vaguely remembered standing by the pool tables and being handed drinks, hiding from the bartender like she'd get in trouble if he knew she was still drinking.

She remembered his steady gaze that kept finding her throughout the night, watching her and making her feel protected.

"Huh." She said, unsure how that had lead to her waking up shirtless in said bartender's bed. "Well, I'm really sorry..."

"Tommy." He finished, his jaw still tight, clearly uncomfortable with her lack of memory. She glanced down at his bare chest, trying not to react to his skin, littered in painful looking scars and a bizarre tattoo over his chest. She swallowed.

Bartenders didn't get scars like that making drinks.

"My phone?" She asked quickly, her eyes snapping back up to his. "I can call a cab."

"Uh, you threw it."

"What?"

"In a sewer."

"Oh my god, I didn't," She groaned. He just stared at her. "Well..." she stuttered, not sure what to say. "I'm so sorry. I didn't expect the night to end in a one night stand with the bartender, but thanks for not letting me wake up in a dumpster, I guess." she said, cringing.

His eyes flashed, "Woah," he said, his eyebrows furrowing. "It wasn't a one night stand. I didn't sleep with you." He sounded slightly offended as he shook his head. "You were too drunk to remember anything and I couldn't even get you home...and you think I slept with you?"

Felicity opened her mouth, then closed it, pulling the blanket tighter and trying to smile. "Sorry," she said quietly, "I just woke up without a shirt and-and in a bed I didn't recognize," she continued, gesturing to the sliding door.

His eyes softened, "No, I'm sorry. That must have been scary. I'm sure this is really disorienting, and I'm not explaining myself well." He took a breath, "After the assholes left, I tried to get you home, but you wouldn't give me your address. You said your best friend would kill you if she found out you told a stranger where you lived, even if he _was_ a sexy bartender," he said with a small laugh. "It was when I asked if I could call your best friend to come pick you up that you tossed your phone."

Felicity faintly remembered it now. She'd dangled her phone over a sewer grate outside of Poison, the bartender trying to talk to her before she dropped it with a sly smile, telling him that he'd have to take care of her now. 

"Ah," Felicity said, nodding, unable to meet his eyes. She'd been a hot mess, and she was surprised he didn't just call the cops to deal with her. Then she gestured down at herself. "And the clothes?"

"You threw up on them. And mine. They should be done being washed any minute," he said, gesturing towards another room down the hall.

She felt her face turn bright red. She remembered noticing how hot he'd looked last night in his gray t-shirt and jeans. It probably wasn't nearly as attractive with her vomit all over him. Thankfully she couldn't quite remember _that_ , but she could only imagine. Groaning, she hung her head. "I'm so sorry. You're a saint for dealing with me."

He watched her for a long moment, waiting for her to look at him again. When she did, he smiled at her. "Would you like some coffee?"

She hesitated, "Coffee?" He nodded. She shook her head, "That sounds like a hangover miracle, but I should really get out of your hair, it sounds like I've caused you enough trouble."

He was shaking his head before she could finish. "You weren't trouble, Felicity. The vomit wasn't pleasant, but we got you cleaned up and you fell right asleep." He raised his hands up, "I offered you a shirt, just so you know." She chuckled. Clothes were her biggest enemy when she was drunk and wanted to sleep. "I took the couch," he said, gesturing to the pillow and blanket and gripping the back of his neck.

She nodded slowly, "Still...you're probably sick of dealing with drunk idiots."

He shook his head again, "You...you're actually a pretty adorable drunk. Very sweet."

She breathed out a laugh, feeling herself begin to blush. He had an intimate way of speaking. She didn't think she'd heard his voice above a whisper, it always sounded so gentle and sincere. "So how did we...um..." She hesitated, trying to remember how they'd gotten here.

"It's okay. You're in my loft. I live right above Poison."

She sighed, "I'm so sorry," she apologized again, "I don't know how to thank you. I'm just...insanely embarrassed right now."

He smiled softly at her, and she was pretty sure it was the sweetest smile she'd ever seen on a man. Shy, yet amused. "Would you like some coffee?" He asked again.

She felt her heart pick up speed at the cute way he asked, so she just nodded. "Let me grab you a shirt...I'm sorry- again, I probably could have started the conversation with that." He muttered to himself as he wandered into his bedroom, pulling the door wide open. He went to his dresser and pulled out the first black t-shirt he touched, offering it to her.

She thanked him before going to the bathroom to change, where she also washed her face and dragged her fingers through her hair a little bit. It was strange to her. She'd never had a one night stand, and even if this didn't necessarily count as one, she was surprised that he didn't want her out of his apartment as fast as possible after the night she'd put him through.

He wasn't in the bedroom when she came out, so she quietly made her way into the other room, seeing him in the kitchen area as he made coffee. Turning to the windows, she glanced around the loft. It wasn't anything too luxurious, but it felt nice. Homey in its own unique little way.

Glancing at him again, she caught him looking at her, and he smiled. God, that was a smile that a girl could really fall for. She made her way to the windows, looking down at the rainy morning below. He had a few plants on the windowsill and some books on his bookshelf, but aside from that and the furniture, it was a very empty space. 

Noticing a photo on his shelf, she wandered over to look at it, and then back at him. It was the only personal thing that she could see, and she wondered who the girl in the photograph was. He filled two mugs with coffee and walked towards her, his eyes hardening slightly as he realized what she was looking at. They became guarded, preparing for her questions. 

First, he held out her mug, and then he offered her two pills, which she took gratefully, her head still pounding thanks to too much tequila. He took a sip of his coffee, glancing away from her to look outside, and Felicity looked at the picture again. "Who is this?" She asked softly, already having an idea.

The resemblance was there...the girl's eyes were just as blue and expressive as his.

"My sister." He said lowly, his jaw tensing.

Felicity looked at the photo again, and then she sat down on the windowsill and offered a shy smile. He stared at her for a moment, but then his features relaxed and he sat down beside her. He clearly did _not_ like to talk about himself, and judging from his reaction, she knew that whatever story he had about his sister was not a good one. "Do you get to see her very much?" She asked, wondering if the girl lived far away from him or something.

He shook his head, "She died when I was a kid."

Felicity's breath caught, "Oh, Tommy, I'm sorry." She didn't mean to reach out and touch him, but she was fascinated that when her hand latched onto his forearm, he relaxed. His shoulders slumped, his muscles easing from their tense position. She had more questions, but she could tell that he wasn't comfortable talking. And she was certain that he was already giving her more than he wanted to.

He smiled, but it looked forced. "It's okay. It was a long time ago. It's just been strange being in Starling again...I haven't been in this town for years."

Felicity raised an eyebrow, realizing that that was all he planned on saying about it. "What made you come back?" She asked, hoping it was a safe question...hoping she wouldn't strike a nerve that made him stop talking. She wanted to know about him. He answered with a simple shrug, and she laughed gently, "You're not a very open person, are you Tommy?"

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, watching her for a moment like he was trying to find something. He just shook his head, his eyes softening in apology.

She let out a long breath before taking another sip of her coffee. "You're the silent type..." she said with a nod, "Usually the quieter people are, the more I talk. It just happens. But you also look like a model and your body seems to be sculpted by the gods so I know that this conversation, if we can call it that, is going to end up in a lot of embarrassment for this girl," she said, pointing her index finger at herself. Then she raised her eyebrows at the slow smile that spread over his face.

"I like you, Felicity. You're... It's nice to spend time with someone like you."

Felicity snorted, "Well, Tommy, that sounds an awful lot like lonely people talk...if a girl that forced you to take care of her, puked on you, and keeps calling you 'sexy bartender' is someone that doesn't make you want to stay far away."

He shrugged again, "I thought we already agreed that we're in that boat together. Lonely, I mean."

She couldn't help but smile. Something about him, despite the gruesome scars all over his chest and the reserved way he carried himself, made her feel comfortable and excited at the same time. 

He finished his coffee and got up to put his cup in the sink, consequently causing her hand to fall from his arm and breaking the spell he'd had her under. She could see that there were parts of him that were dark, broken in painful ways. Maybe it should have scared her, but she'd never felt safer than she did in that moment. 

Felicity was pretty sure that the man in front of her was capable of things that should terrify her. Maybe he had _done_ things that should terrify her. If the scars were any indication, he had experienced horrors that most people didn't even know existed. To get scars like that...she had no idea what he must have been mixed up in, but she knew it wasn't anything good.

Yet his eyes softened when she spoke to him...and his smile was soft and sweet when she amused him. She felt like she could trust him on instinct. That he was the kind of man you wanted in your corner.

He came back over to sit down next to her, seating himself a little closer than before, and she leaned into him. "Tommy," she said, looking up at him, trying to read him as he gazed back at her. "I feel like I can trust you," she whispered before hesitating, her eyes searching his. He stared back at her, completely open for her. "Can I trust you?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Felicity brought one hand to his face, watching as his eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled. "You can trust me, Felicity." He breathed.

"Will you tell me what happened to you?" She asked quietly, her hand slipping down his neck and touching his chest, running over the deep and long scar on his shoulder. His eyes stayed closed, but she saw his brows furrow and his jaw tense. "That's okay," she whispered, reading his reluctance.

He opened his eyes, and she smiled gently. His eyes softened, and he reached his hand out towards her before changing his mind, clenching it into a fist and bringing it to his lap. She bit her lip as he stopped himself, was she crazy to be disappointed?

"I've been through some things, Felicity..." he said quietly, his voice so low and pained that she froze, her hand dropping to his. "Things that have made it very hard for me to trust anyone. I don't know what you were seeing in me last night, but I-I've been alone for a very long time, and I don't remember the last time someone made me feel like you did. I really did try to get you home, but part of me was glad that you were insisting on spending the night with me," he let out a breathy laugh, "I knew that you'd wake up this morning, and I'd get to talk to you again."

Felicity nodded slowly, "I can't say that I'm particularly proud of last night, but I like being here... now. With you." She nudged her shoulder against his. "I should probably get going though. I have a whole phone situation to figure out."

"Let me get your clothes," he said, hesitating for a moment. She didn't want him to move either, enjoying the heat radiating from where his arm touched hers.

He finally stood up, and she noticed another strange tattoo and more scars on his back as he walked away. Shaking her head, she became determined to hear it. She wasn't sure how she was going to see him again without babbling like a fool and asking for his number, but she was willing to do it. There wasn't a chance in hell that she was walking out of that apartment without it.

When he came back in, clutching her clothes in his fist, he looked like he was having the same debate in his mind. They both knew it was time for her to leave, but neither of them wanted her to. She reached her hand out for her clothes and he hesitated before letting them go, his fingers brushing against hers. "Felicity," he said softly, "can I see you again?"

She nodded, and he let out a breath of relief. He smiled, "Okay. I would really like to take you on a date sometime."

"A date?"

"Yes."

She laughed, "After last night, you want to go on a date with me?" She asked, her breath getting caught in her throat. "Isn't a girl puking on you just a little...repulsive?"

He smiled, his eyes amused as he shook his head. "Would you like to get dinner with me, Felicity?"

"Okay. I'll uh, I'll just get changed and then I can leave you my number...or, I can take yours, since I'm the one who currently doesn't have a phone. You can't exactly call me when I don't have a phone, so..." She cringed, grinding her teeth to stop herself.

"How about tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes. A date. You and me? Tonight."

Felicity bit her lip, fighting a smile because that sounded _wonderful_ , "Okay."


	3. I Survived. Here is What's Left of Me

After getting a new phone and setting it up, the first thing Felicity did was call Iris. She knew that her best friend would be worried when she didn't answer her calls and didn't show up for coffee that morning. And she'd been right, having to pull her phone away from her ear when Iris screamed at her. 

Felicity explained what had happened, and Iris had insisted that they meet for lunch as soon as possible because she wanted every detail in person. And Felicity had agreed, taking more Tylenol and demanding time for a hot shower first.

It went exactly how she'd expected it to; Iris asking one million questions and Felicity only answering three. Luckily she had a nasty hangover that kept Iris from yelling at her anymore, and her lack of memory was both a good and a valid excuse to not provide too many details.

She felt weird about it, since she was used to telling Iris every little thing, but she liked keeping the connection she had with the bartender to herself. She told her friend how he had helped her, and explained how ridiculous she had behaved, but assured Iris that everything was okay. He'd been a perfect gentleman and she hadn't felt anything less than safe.

None of that was a lie.

She just downplayed how attractive he was. She brushed it off instead of gushing about him like part of her wanted to. It's not like there was much to tell about him anyway, she barely knew him. But she was hoping dinner would go differently.

He was mysterious, and interesting, and charming. The timing wasn't lost on her. The same night that she'd been asking for some excitement in her life, she met a sexy bartender who was not only sweet and kind, but who made her heart race so fast that it felt like she was on a constant roller coaster. Seriously, his eyes were insane. And the way he spoke gave her goosebumps just thinking about it...the low hum of his voice paired with a pair of blue eyes that stared right to her soul. She was a goner already.

Oh. And the muscles. She couldn't forget the muscles.

Felicity got ready for her date and thought about how she'd felt the night before, when it had been Ray Palmer that she was going out to meet. She couldn't help but notice the vast difference. The previous night, she'd thrown on a pair clean pair of jeans, the first shirt she touched, and her favorite heels. She didn't fuss over her hair, and she put on some make-up just before she went out the door.

Now, she still had an hour to kill before she was meeting the bartender, but her hair was done and her make-up was as good as she could manage it. She just needed to decide what to wear. She wanted to impress him, but not be too over the top. She finally narrowed it down to two dresses. The red one was sexier, but the blue one was more casual. She just didn't know what to expect.

She had suggested beers and tacos, assuming that he would like somewhere laid back and quiet, and she was glad that he'd agreed.

Felicity took a picture of each of the dresses laid out on her bed, sending them to Iris with an "SOS" text message.

Her phone started to ring immediately, and she held her breath, realizing her mistake. She was so used to telling Iris everything, she forgot that she hadn't told her this. "Those look like date dresses, Felicity Megan Smoak." Her friend accused.

"Uh...yeah, well, that would be because I'm trying to pick one. For a date."

"With Tommy?"

Felicity pursed her lips. "Yes. Which one should I wear?"

"Since when are you going on a date with him?"

"Since he asked me," Felicity answered carefully.

"You gave him your number?"

"Well, no. He asked this morning...at his apartment. He wanted dinner, I said something about Mexican food, he told me to meet him at El Selva." 

"Why didn't you mention that this morning!?" Iris accused.

Felicity huffed, "Because I wanted to see how it went first. He's...different. I'm not sure if it's going to go anywhere." She finished as she cringed. She was surprised by how much she was hoping for the best, how much she wanted it to go well, but their conversation at his apartment had been a little rough. He didn't share very much, even when she asked. In fact, he barely spoke at all. She just wasn't sure how nice of a date companion she'd have if he didn't talk to her... "Now, are you going to help me?" 

Iris groaned, "I hate you. The red one."

Felicity smiled and picked it up off her bed, "Thank you, I'll call you later."

After hanging up, Felicity carefully put the dress on, making sure to choose the right underwear to wear underneath it, hoping for the best on that front, too...and then she slid on her matching heels. Without anything left to do, she decided to go a little early, since she'd never been to El Selva. His directions were simple enough, but she was too nervous to sit in her apartment anymore.

 She was seated at an outdoor table twenty minutes before they agreed to meet, anxiously playing with her napkin. She tried to think about anything and everything besides him, not wanting to make herself too nervous. 

That lasted for all of two minutes before she called Iris and made her talk to her. When her best friend started asking questions about her date, she groaned, telling her that she needed a different topic. That was all Iris needed to start talking about the wedding, and Felicity soon found herself focusing on helping Iris plan and make decisions for her upcoming nuptial. 

She'd gotten so into it, actually, that she didn't notice her date had arrived until he was sliding into the chair across from her. "Oh!" She felt her heart drop, "Iris, I have to go." She hung up quickly, letting her phone fall into her lap. "Sorry."

He shook his head, smiling at her. "You look beautiful."

Felicity smiled back, covering her mouth with her fingers as she watched him. He was dressed in khaki pants, a blue shirt, and a black leather jacket. He looked scrumptious. 

He raised an eyebrow, "I don't know if I've ever been called scrumptious before."

She groaned, "Of course that was out loud."

He laughed, glancing down shyly as the waiter put menus in front of them. How a man with a face like that got nervous under a compliment was beyond her. She thought that he must have been used to it after living for so long...looking like that. But he actually blushed, his eyes focused on his menu as he smiled sheepishly.

"Important phone call?" He asked, glancing back up at her.

"Not really. Just my friend, Iris. The one who you tried to call last night to help me before I...tossed my phone into a sewage drain." She cringed.

"I'm glad to see you got a new one."

"Yeah, now I can give you my number. If you want it, I mean, you don't have to take it, if you don't want it. But if you happen to enjoy spending time with me tonight and decide that you might like to call me sometime in the future, you know, you could have it." She swallowed, "But again you don't have to-"

"I want it," he grinned as he interrupted, thank god. She was pretty sure she would have kept going all night. She smiled back at him, nodding. The waiter came and they ordered beer and tacos, as promised.

Felicity took a moment to glance around the restaurant, too nervous to do so before. It was beautiful, and she was actually surprised he'd picked such a romantic place. Or that she'd never heard of it. It felt like a secret garden, wedged between two buildings in the middle of the concrete world that made up Starling. A little bit of a whole in the wall but the kind that you were happy to discover. It didn't really feel like they were in the city at all. It looked like a jungle. El Selva. She got it now. "I like this place," she said quietly, looking up at the lights hanging from the trees above their heads.

Glancing back at him as the waiter returned with their drinks, she laughed nervously when she noticed the way he was looking at her; intently, analyzing her. His lips twitched into a smirk as she watched a flush rise on his neck. He looked mildly embarrassed to be caught staring, and it was adorable. "I'm sorry," he said, "you're just...gorgeous, Felicity."

She pinched her lips together, trying to stop herself from giggling, or from getting up and dancing. She felt like a middle school girl with a crush, woozy at the compliment and the candid way that he said it. "Thank you, Tommy."

His eyes flickered, and he cleared his throat. "So, you looked a little intense on the phone... is everything okay?"

Felicity waved him off, "Oh, yeah. Iris is actually getting married in a month, we were just talking about some wedding details."

He raised an eyebrow, "You're the maid of honor, I'm assuming."

She grinned, "Of course."

"That's awesome."

Felicity sighed, leaning a little closer. "I met Iris in college. She's seen me during some of my darkest times and supported me through all of it," She hesitated, watching his eyes soften.

"I'm glad you had a friend like that." He said sincerely.

"I was lucky to have her," she said softly, running her finger across the lip of her beer glass to give her hand something to do. "But I feel kind of guilty."

"Why is that?" he asked, putting his elbows on the table and leaning a little closer, too.

"She's known Barry her whole life. They've been in love since they were kids. Sure, they've had their arguments and struggles, but they've always had each other."

"And that makes you feel guilty?"

"For being jealous of it. Yes. I've never had someone that stayed by my side like that, you know?" She bit her lip, wondering if she was being a little too open and if he'd think she was needy or something. "Well, my mom. But she's my mother, she doesn't really have a choice." Felicity huffed, wondering what compelled her to start baring her soul to him. "I see the way that Iris and Barry look at each other, and it makes me want the same thing." She finished with a shrug.

"You don't want to be lonely anymore." He said softly, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand.

Felicity lifted her shoulders again, "Yeah, but...more than that. Iris loves Barry unconditionally, and he loves her so much that he wants to be with her forever. I've never-I've never felt that way about someone." He nodded slowly, his gaze falling from her eyes to her lips. "Have you?" She whispered.

His eyes lifted to meet hers again, and he shook his head.

The waiter came back with their food, and Felicity leaned back, giving herself some room to breathe and clear her head as he set their plates in front of them. They ate in a mostly comfortable silence, but she was glad that when he did speak again, they kept to safer topics. Ones that relaxed her instead of making her heart beat out of her chest. He didn't mention unconditional love or loneliness, but instead asked about her interests. And she listened to his fascination with sports. She'd dated men who were sports fanatics, and she couldn't care less about them, but listening to him rattle off some batting averages or whatever...she wasn't even sure what he was talking about, but she enjoyed listening anyway.

He smiled apologetically, looking embarrassed, and she shook her head, "I like listening to you talk about something you're passionate about."

He asked her about college, and she told him about Boston and MIT. Then he explained that he'd skipped around schools for a few years, having a hard time staying in one place for very long, but eventually he got a degree in business. It surprised her, "Wait, do you _own_ Poison?" He nodded, and she laughed, "I didn't realize..."

He shrugged, "It's not the most successful business venture, but I like it and-"

"It's yours?" She finished.

He smiled at her and nodded, his face smoothing as she understood him. "Exactly."

The waiter brought the bill sometime while they were talking, setting it between them. Neither of them had touched it, continuing their conversation and hardly noticing.

Finally, he sighed and picked it up, "I guess we should be getting out of here, they're closing soon."

Felicity glanced around, seeing that there was only one other couple at the restaurant and that they were on their way out. "Oh, wow," she said. Being so focused on a date that she didn't notice anything else, that she lost track of time, definitely qualified as _better than fine_ in her book.

"I don't really want to say goodbye to you yet," he whispered, "would you-do you want to-if you wanted to come back-" She nodded adamantly, and he breathed out a laugh.

Setting the check back on the table, he stood up and offered his hand. She took it without question, letting him lead her out of the restaurant's gates. His apartment was only two blocks from El Selva, but they took her car so that she wouldn't get towed. 

He looked strange sitting in her passenger seat, maybe a little uncomfortable, she guessed...his thumb and his index finger rubbed together nervously.

"That restaurant was beautiful," Felicity said casually, "I'm not used to seeing so much green in a city like Starling. Especially coming here after Boston...I feel like I've been looking up at skyscrapers for so long that trees are actually mythical fabrications."

He chuckled as she pulled up in front of Poison. His place was open, and she could see a blonde woman manning the bar. The girl looked familiar, probably from those nights that she and Iris had stumbled inside the bar.

He put his hand on her back as he lead her to the door that went up to his apartment. "Where I come from, trees are as common as these buildings," he let out a breath. "El Selva is kind of comforting to me."

Felicity furrowed her brow, "And...where do you come from? Where's home?" She knew he'd said that he had spent time in Starling as a child, and he'd earned a degree in business as he moved around a lot, but she wasn't sure about anything else. He didn't even say exactly where he had lived.

He opened the door to his apartment and ushered her in. "Can I get you some wine?" He asked, keeping his voice casual.

She hesitated, noticing the way he'd dodged. But aside from the tense muscles in his shoulders, he seemed relaxed. She nodded, watching him as he poured two glasses of red wine and gestured for her to sit on the couch. He waited until she took a sip, and she didn't speak either, feeling her radar going off, telling her that something wasn't quite right.

It felt bizarre, unexpected after such a relaxed and easy date. "Felicity..." he said slowly, taking her glass out of her hand and setting them both on the table in front of them.

He leaned towards her, taking both of her hands in his to make sure that he had her attention. "I like you..." he sighed, "I'm starting to _really_ like you. You asked me this morning if you could trust me, and I promised you that you could. I want to remind you of that because...I haven't been completely honest with you. But I want to be. I know now that I can be."

She raised an eyebrow, squeezing his hands as she felt her heart fluttering, nervous about what he was about to say. If he admitted some creepy fetish, she was going to run.

"I told you that I don't- I can't trust people very easily." His eyes flickered between hers, begging her to understand. "I trust you." His voice was low and intense. Despite his desperate tone and her anxious nerves, she wasn't afraid. "I lied to you...when we first met..."

"About what?"

"Look, before I tell you any of this, you need to understand that there is so much- so many things that you don't know about me. And I'm going to do the best that I can, but I would really appreciate it if you could be patient with me. There are things-stories...that I've never told anyone. Never said out loud." He met her eyes, and the sheer pain that she saw in them suddenly reminded her of the scars that were currently hidden underneath his shirt.

She imagined that that was true. Those scars must have stories.

And if he was going to attempt to open up to her about it, then the least she could do was not bombard him, to listen whenever he wanted to share. Take it day by day.

Felicity squeezed his hand, "You can tell me, Tommy."

"My name...it's not Tommy."

She froze, her eyebrows furrowing. She wasn't expecting that.

"It's Oliver Queen."

"Oliver Queen?" She let out a breath of surprise. She hadn't heard that name since she was ten.

At the time, it was all over the news. He nodded slowly. "Oliver Queen...died," she said, hesitating as she stared at him, trying to remember the story that had been the buzz of Starling for months, all those years ago. Her head snapped up to the photograph on his shelf. The one he said was of his sister. Felicity pointed to it, "That's Thea Queen..." she breathed. With the reminder, she realized that she'd also seen pictures of the young girl on the news, never looking older than she did in the photograph on his shelf. Her eyes widened, "Oh my god. Your family..."

He swallowed. "They died, yes." he nodded, taking a deep breath. "What the media said were true. Fifteen years ago, when I was thirteen, my family took our boat out and it never came back. My parents...my sister, they died in the wreck." She held her breath as he spoke, his hands gripping hers almost painfully. "I survived, and I made it to an island."

"Oh my god," she breathed. He stared down at their hands. She had dozens of thoughts circling her mind, but she knew that she had just agreed to _not_ overwhelm him with questions. She tried to remember the details of the Queen's Gambit disappearing. They never found the bodies, but the boat had been discovered three years after they went missing, and the whole family had been presumed dead. She had so many questions, and she couldn't stop staring at him.

She decided to just ask one for now. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you made it off the boat?"

His jaw tightened, "I was shipwrecked on that island for ten years, Felicity." He whispered. "Do you know...can you imagine how the world would react? I was alone, my family was dead, and...I thought I would be better off as someone else."

"So you just...came back and started using the name Tommy? Gave yourself a fresh start? How did you get off-" She pursed her lips, stopping herself from attacking him with more questions. "Sorry," she said, running her thumb along his hand soothingly. She could see it all over his face and body language that he didn't want to be having this conversation. He was being honest with her for _her_ benefit, not his own.

He looked up at her, offering a small, sad smile. "It's a lot more complicated than that...but essentially, yes." She realized that he'd said _ten_ years on the island...The Queen family had been missing for fifteen now. So he'd come back and spent five years getting a business degree? But how did he get a new identity? What happened on that island? _Where_ was the island? How did he get home? Who else knew who he really was?

She knew that it was much more complicated, as he'd said...but she forced herself to let it go.

If she pushed him too hard, he would be gone.

That she knew. That she could feel.

Felicity stared at him as his gaze fell back down to their hands, his fingers twisting into hers anxiously, his eyebrows furrowed. "Felicity...I need to ask you not to tell anyone who I really am...I know it's confusing, and I know you have questions, but I need you to promise. It's safer this way."

Letting out a deep breath, she nodded, "I promise."

She wanted to know everything, but she could see that he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He stayed quiet as she sat there, giving her a moment to digest it and gather her thoughts. She knew he had lied, and she didn't necessarily like it, but could she blame him? Was he really expected to introduce himself to her as Oliver Queen when she'd wandered into his bar? A complete stranger?

They'd only known each other for twenty four hours, give or take. And here he was, trusting her enough to tell her the truth _now_. 

Maybe it was the wrong decision to stay there, to not get up and walk away. She didn't care. Telling her who he was now...it was good enough for her. She pulled her hands away from his and he froze. Keeping his head down, he immediately released her, his gaze focused on his empty hands. His shoulders slumped and he sighed, like he was waiting for her to get up and leave.

Instead, she slid her fingers along his jaw, lifting his face to look at her. She smiled, and he swallowed, waiting. "Thank you for telling me," she whispered. "For trusting me this."

Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering there for a moment until she heard him let out a breath of relief. "You don't hate me?"

Felicity shrugged. "You look a lot more like an Oliver than a Tommy, anyway."

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "You're incredible, Felicity..."

She was really starting to enjoy the way he said her name.

"Oliver," she said slowly, trying it out. His eyes darkened, focusing on hers. And her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't imagine how strange it must be for him to hear the name that he'd buried...the one he'd let die with the rest of his family. But his eyes were expressive, and he seemed affected by hearing her say it.

Felicity could see flashes of both sides of him now; the easygoing bartender and the man who had somehow received those scars, the tattoos. She felt relax, not caring about the anything else when he was staring at her like she was important to him.

She was willing to accept both sides of him, probably any side of him. "Oliver," she said quietly, leaning closer and wrapping her arms around his neck. He froze for a moment as she hugged him, but then he sighed and his arms wound around her waist. "Please ask me to stay with you tonight," she whispered.


	4. You've Dug Your Own Grave

Felicity sighed as she opened her eyes, confused for a moment before she remembered the room. She'd woken up in it two mornings in a row now, but this time she had a gorgeous man wrapped around her and the memory of staying up late talking to him all night. He told her about his first few years on the island, being thirteen and alone in such a scary place. Her heart broke for him when he shared that his father had also made it off of the boat, gotten them into a raft...but didn't make it to the island with his son.

The sun was just starting to come in through his blinds, and she couldn't help but smile. After she'd asked him to stay last night, he'd insisted on taking the couch again, and she'd rolled her eyes.

He insisted that she should know more before she decided anything about what they were doing. He wanted her to be certain that she _knew_ him before she made any decisions.

But she already knew what she wanted, he didn't need to kiss her for her to know how she felt about him. And she definitely wouldn't have protested if he tried.

She didn't care what else he would say, what other stories he'd share. Well, she _cared_ , but it wasn't going to change how she felt. Her attraction to him was growing and she could guarantee that none of the stories he told about those scars would affect that. Actually, she had a feeling that whatever he said was only going to make her like him even more. Care about him even more. He'd been hurt enough, and she felt a strange sense of protectiveness over him. 

The feeling was verified when, after a couple of hours of sharing his traumatizing past and how cruel the world had been to him, he curled himself around her as she started to fall asleep. He held her between his arms as if he wasn't going to let pain like that touch her.

Felicity laid on her side just as she'd fallen asleep, facing the window while Oliver was behind her, spooning her with his arm over her shoulder to hold her hand.

She smiled to herself. She really wasn't one for cuddling. She liked it, just not when she was trying to sleep. She didn't mind having a man in her bed, but she always pulled away before she passed out.

Climbing into bed with him the previous night, she'd barely let him get comfortable before smothering him; ducking under his arm to put her head on his chest, flattening her hand on his stomach and pushing her leg between his. And he'd just huffed out a laugh, his body stiff for a moment before her hugged her back.

Eventually, half asleep, she'd turned over, pulling away like she usually did. And he'd followed after her with a soft groan, his chest pressing against her back and his face burying itself in her hair as his arm came around her. He'd pressed every part of his body against hers as he sighed, so close to sleep. And she'd felt her heart softening for him, wanting to give him the comfort he desired as she'd closed her eyes again and kissed his fingers.

It'd been the best night's sleep she'd had in years. Which was partly because his bed was so comfortable but mostly because he was there and he didn't take his hands off her all night. Felicity felt his chest rising and falling in even breaths behind her, his nose nestling into the back of her neck as his hand tightened around hers. She felt so safe, so happy in that moment that she didn't want to move. She tried not to, holding her body perfectly still and squeezing her eyes shut again. She still felt exhausted, but she couldn't fall back asleep.

After a couple of minutes, her stomach growled. His clock said that it was only 6:00 in the morning, so she had no idea why she was even awake. Sleeping until 10:00 on the weekends was her favorite hobby. They'd only climbed into bed a few hours ago, but she was wide awake.

With a sigh, she slowly turned over, trying to be careful not to wake him but wanting to see his face.

Unsurprisingly, he was a light sleeper, and as soon as she tried to move, he jolted awake. His first instinct was to pull her tighter into his chest, but then he let her go and he was suddenly gone.

She sat up and turned around, seeing him standing next to the bed, his eyes glancing around the room. Then he sighed and looked down at her for a brief moment before he closed his eyes, "Sorry," he mumbled.

Felicity shook her head, crawling across the bed on her knees until she reached him and grabbed his hands. Without a word, she pulled him back into bed. He laid down and relaxed as she settled next to him, facing each other. His eyes fluttered shut when she curled her hand into his hair, stroking it soothingly.

He clearly wasn't used to waking up with anyone, and even as he calmed down, she could still see the tension in his face. Staying quiet until it was gone, Felicity continued to feel through his hair. It was ridiculously cute how it stuck up in different directions from a good night's sleep. "Oliver..." She finally whispered.

His breath caught, but he smiled as he opened his eyes, an unreadable expression behind them. "I really like hearing you call me that."

Felicity smiled back, both of them unable to look away. "What made you choose the name Tommy?"

Oliver reached for her hip, pulling her a little closer with a sigh, "I had a best friend growing up whose name was Tommy."

She raised her eyebrows, "Really?"

He nodded, "Do you remember Merlyn Global? It went out of business..." he let out a breath as he thought, "I don't know, you must have been...about five? A long time ago."

She shrugged. It didn't ring any bells. "Well," he continued, "My friend Tommy's parents owned it. They were friends with my parents and they worked closely. Queen Consolidated invested in Merlyn Global and vice versa. When we were eight, Tommy's parents died in a car accident, and he came to live with us. My mom never told anyone. She pulled a lot of strings to keep his name out of the papers, to make sure he was out of the spotlight. She wanted him to be able to grieve in peace, at such a young age..." Oliver shrugged, "We got close. He was like a brother to me."

Felicity hesitated, watching as his eyes hardened. "He was on the boat?" She asked gently, her breath caught in her throat.

He nodded once, and she sighed. Felicity wrapped her arm around his waist, moving her head to rest under his chin. With her face nestled into his chest, she heard him sigh. 

It wasn't fair. How could one person, just a kid at the time, deserve to lose so much? His best friend and his family died on the same day, and he'd been alone ever since. How was that fair?

She didn't know where it came from, but she felt a flash of anger. The protective feeling built again, and she hugged him tighter. As his arms gently held her back, she couldn't believe that he'd managed to become the man lying next to her now. His heart was still there, he was still kind...when the world had given him every reason not to be. "I'm sorry..." she whispered, opening her eyes and seeing one of his scars as soon as she did.

She ran her index finger over it. "Oh, Felicity..." he breathed, holding her head to his chest and kissing her hair. "It's okay." His voice was so soft...so _gentle_.

He said it like he was trying to make _her_ feel better, like he didn't want her to feel sad or upset for him. She shook her head, blown away. Damn, she was in trouble.

Felicity felt his hands start to smooth over her back, over the borrowed t-shirt that swallowed her...making pants totally unnecessary. She held her breath, hearing his heart pick up speed. Her own hand mindlessly wandered over his back, feeling the dimpled and scarred skin there. And then she slid her nose across his Adam's apple, moving closer to him so she could bring it up to his jaw.

He exhaled, turning his head down to look at her. "You feel so good, Felicity..."

She dug her fingers into his back in response, hiking her leg over his hip. His eyes lulled closed as he pressed against her. He pushed his forehead against hers, sliding his nose over her own as he tried to catch his breath. He was fighting it. "Oliver," she breathed, never wanting to kiss anyone more than she wanted to kiss him. Her fingers dug into his hair, leaning in closer as she tightened her leg around his hip.

"Wait, wait," he sighed breathlessly.

Felicity froze, pulling back slightly to see his brows furrowed. "I don't want to wait." She said honestly.

He groaned, gripping her hip to stop the little movements she hadn't realized she was doing. "Felicity, I don't want you to regret anything...I just need to know that you feel safe with me...that none of this freaks you out too much, or..."

She raised an eyebrow, "Do I look freaked out?"

He narrowed his eyes back at her, grinning, "I just want you to have time to think about all of this, okay?"

She bit her lip, swallowing her own desire because even if it didn't matter to her, it clearly mattered to him. He needed to wait. "Okay," she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek instead. He sighed in relief when she dropped her leg from his hip and she chuckled. "Coffee?"

"Of course. Let me make some." He started to move, but she put a hand on his chest. 

"No, I got it." She blurted, jumping out of bed. "My favorite coffee place is just a few blocks away, I'll go grab some." She needed some fresh air. A nice walk to calm her body down was necessary if he was going to lay in bed all shirtless with rumpled hair and not kiss her...

"Felicity, you don't have to-"

"It's okay," she smiled, already pulling on her pants. "I want to."

"I'll come with you," he offered, standing up. 

She shook her head as she pulled his shirt up to her waist and tied it off, reaching for her shoes and glancing at him as she slid them on.

His eyes were wide, his expression nervous. Felicity cocked her head to the side and let out a breath. He was afraid she was running away. Crossing the room, she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a good squeeze. "I'll be right back," she laughed breathlessly.

He breathed out a laugh in response, "You're not trying to get out of here as fast as you can?"

"Well, only for coffee and fresh muffins, which I plan to share." She smiled, looking up at him, "I'm coming back, Oliver. I promise." He watched her cautiously as she put her coat on, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek again. He was obviously wary of whether or not she'd actually return, and she didn't mind proving to him that she meant what she'd said. She wanted him to trust her as much as she already trusted him, but she understood that it was a little harder for him, that it might take time.

Once she was out of the apartment, she walked quickly towards the coffee shop, seeing her breath in front of her in the chilly air. The sky was colored with gorgeous purples and pinks, making her want to wake up in time to see the sunrise more often. 

She was eager to get back to him, to show him that she wasn't running away, but she also needed the time to digest everything that she'd heard since last night, analyzing every moment she'd had with him since she met him, so she walked as slowly as she could.

Felicity was surprised at herself for being so trusting of Oliver. She knew she could believe him not only because he actually _looked_ like the child in the photos he'd shown her last, but it was also a gut instinct.

For a girl who had a bad habit of looking for reasons to leave, it hadn't even crossed her mind last night. She always found an excuse not to be with a man...Iris hated her for it, but she'd been like that ever since Cooper. Her ex boyfriend hadn't been perfect, but she'd loved him in spite of his faults. And his death had crushed her. Ever since, she'd never given anyone the chance to touch her heart. Oliver was different and unexpected. The new feeling was a little terrifying. She didn't care if she had every reason in the world to walk away, all she needed was one reason to stay and she'd be right there with him.

He gave her more than one. He gave her plenty, starting with the way he made her feel. Still, she knew that her life would definitely be less complicated without him in it. What was she going to tell Iris? Or her mother? What kind of future could she have with him? A man who was dead to the world? What were they _doing_?

The only person in the coffee shop when she walked in was an exhausted looking teenager working behind the counter. Besides Oliver, he was the only person she'd seen so far. "Good morning," he smiled tiredly. 

Felicity smiled back, ordering her coffee and muffins and letting him work in peace. 

She was in and out in just a few minutes, deciding to take a shortcut back to Oliver's place. She walked faster now too, smelling the blueberry muffins and eager to eat one. If she cut through a parking lot, the bar and his apartment above it were just on the other side. She was also eager to get back to him, to talk to him more. And to see if he'd put a shirt on yet. She was hoping the answer was no.

Felicity muttered to herself as she walked, trying not to get worked up when her mind wandered to those _abs_. "The walk was supposed to calm your hormones down, you freak. Stop that."

Suddenly stopping in her tracks, Felicity glanced up. 

Her heart began to race as she froze in the middle of the empty parking lot.

She had no idea what had set her off, too lost in her own thoughts, but something inside of her put her whole body on alert, her instincts taking over.

Her hair rose on the back of her neck as her eyes darted around the parking lot frantically.

Then she heard a metallic sound...something scraping. 

And she turned around, the coffee and muffins immediately falling from her fingers, dropping to the pavement at her feet.

A man stood about one hundred yards away, a mask over his face, and he was _huge_. One side of his mask was black, the other yellow and it had an eerily realistic form around the eyes, making them look hollow, even as he stood so far away.

That wasn't the most terrifying part, though. 

The two swords that he dragged across the pavement as he slowly began to move towards her was definitely creepier. "What the hell?" She mumbled to herself, her body reacting with terror but her mind reacting with confusion.

He lifted one of the swords, swinging it out to the side, and she inhaled sharply.

Move. Run. How did legs work again?

She had to _go_.

Without another thought, she took off, running straight into the abandoned parking garage to her left, her mind completely blank besides the knowledge that she had to get away from whoever the hell that was.

She groaned as she heard the scraping swords steadily following her into the structure. "What is this? Friday the Thirteenth?"

Then she laughed.

She was being chased by a psycho with swords and she _laughed_. At her own joke, no less.

Terror made her insane. Not sword wielding psycho in a mask _insane..._ but she felt completely disconnected from her fear. The panic was definitely there, her body reminded her how afraid she was, but her mind wasn't on the same page, as if it was avoiding the reality that that man was after _her_.

All she knew was that she had to move. But where did she go?

"This can't  _actually_ be happening." She whispered to herself, knowing full well that it was because she could still hear those damn swords. He was inside now.

Felicity had no idea where to go, so she just continued to run up the ramps of the crumbling parking garage, not considering what she'd do when she reached the top or how she was would get out. "Maybe coming in here wasn't the best idea," she breathed, stopping to catch her breath for a moment.

She could hear the man's footsteps on the floor below her. Slowly, she leaned over the railing and looked down, a sharp yelp escaping her when she saw him, both swords raised as he followed her. His head snapped up when he heard her, and she yelped again. "What's with the mask, creep?" She snapped without thinking. 

He cocked his head to the side, but didn't answer.

"Frack," she sighed when he started moving again. "Taunt the psycho, Felicity. Brilliant," she groaned, starting to run again. "Frack, frack, frack."

She didn't make it very far before she halted, noticing another masked man on the level above her, balanced on one of the beams.

This one she recognized.

That green cloaked figure was all over the news. The Hood.

"Keep running!" He growled.

He raised a bow, pulling the string back to his cheek, an arrow ready to fire.

Felicity swallowed, but followed his instructions, running towards him, heading for the set of stairs that lead to the level he was on. She didn't care if she was running away from one masked crazy person and towards another. It seemed like one was trying to save her while the other was trying to kill her, so...

She glanced up at him when she heard an arrow whiz above her head. And then she stopped, turning around quickly to see the other masked man a few yards behind her. Felicity let out a breath of surprise as his hand darted up and stopped the arrow just before it landed in his eye. The psycho actually _caught_ The Hood's arrow.

"You've gotten better with your aim, kid." He spoke for the first time, a thick accent in his voice.

He hadn't said a word to her before he started chasing her around an abandoned parking garage, but she supposed that it wasn't psycho killer etiquette to chat with your murder victims.

"I said..." the green one whispered, his voice low and dangerous, "keep running."

It registered that he was talking to her just as the giant, psychotic one began to charge her again. She gasped, her heart pounding in her chest at the sight, and she started to run. Felicity heard the next arrow whistle above her head, and she glanced over her shoulder as she continued to run.

She let out a strained cry as that one actually did land in his eye.

Her head snapped back in the other direction when The Hood jumped from his beam, dropping gracefully in front of her at the same time that she heard the psycho's body fall to the floor behind her.

Catching her breath and feeling her hands shake, she tried to tell herself that it was over. Her eyes opened again, glancing at the man in front of her. The Hood's face was covered, and he didn't look at her as he quickly passed, heading over to the man he'd just shot. In the eye. With an _arrow_.

Felicity was probably in shock, never thinking that she'd be willingly walking towards a scene like what was in front of her, but she followed The Hood as he bent down next to the body.

"Who the hell is that!?" She cried. The vigilante just grunted, pressing his fingers to the psycho's throat. "Is he dead?" Felicity asked, stopping far enough away that she could see the arrow sticking out of his eye but not so close that she could _see_ it. Because gross.

He nodded once as he turned to face her, stepping away from the body. She saw him let out a deep breath. "Who is that!?" She screamed, demanding an answer with hysteria rising in her voice now.

She'd been making jokes when she was being chased by the psycho, but _now_ she was panicking? Now that he was dead? What was wrong with her?

The Hood stayed silent and perfectly still.

"He knew you." She accused, "Who is he?" She asked again, and then she pointed a shaking finger at him, "And who the hell are you?"

"His name was Slade Wilson." The Hood muttered lowly, gesturing to the masked body, "But he goes by Deathstroke."

" _Death_... _stroke_?" She breathed, "Well, that's as scary as he looks." She stared at The Hood as he lifted his bow and brought it back down uncomfortably. "Why...what-what did he want with me?" She stuttered.

"I don't know." He shook his head, taking a step towards her. She took three back, her heart racing. He might have saved her, but there was a dead body at his feet. He was lethal.

"You killed him," she breathed.

"He was going to kill _you_." He growled back, his voice thick with anger.

She understood why the city was afraid of him. Just looking at him...his whole body tense like he was prepared to fight at the drop of a hat...it was scary. He was intimidating.

She knew what he'd done for the city. How he was trying to protect it. But seeing a drawing of him on the news and agreeing with his methods was a lot different than watching it happen right in front of her face. But he was also right. That man had been following her. After her. She probably would have died via double swords on the top of a decaying parking garage if it weren't for him...

"Felicity..."

She froze.

The Hood set his bow on the ground, raising his hands in the air to show her that he meant her no harm.

She knew that voice.

He said her name now in the same breathless, affectionate way as he had this morning. He pushed the hood back, allowing her to see his face.

Felicity's heart dropped, holding her breath as her eyes widened. "Oh...you've got to be kidding me."


	5. Nobody Taught Us to Quit

"Please talk to me," Oliver said lowly, glancing at her. After leaving the parking garage, he'd taken Felicity's keys out of her shaking hands and quickly led them to her car that was parked in front of his bar, silently helping her into the passenger's seat before he got behind the wheel. She was in too much shock to speak, her mind completely reeling as she tried to make sense of everything. 

He reached his hand across the seat and Felicity willingly laced her fingers through his, holding his hand between both of hers. He glanced back at the road with a sigh. "Talk to me," he whispered again, squeezing her hand. "You haven't asked a single question and you've barely said a word."

"I don't know what to say... I can't say I'm all that surprised you're The Hood." she whispered softly.

Oliver's jaw tightened, "Felicity, I promised to be honest with you, but I don't want to overwhelm you. Do you... is there anything you want to know?"

She paused. There were a million questions on her tongue but her mind was having a hard time understanding any of it. "How did that man know who you are?" She asked.

"I wasn't always alone on the island, Felicity. I met Slade there. I...I was dying when he came to Lian Yu. He was desperately searching for a drug called Mirakuru, and he got himself shipwrecked there to find it. I had been surviving off of plants and berries for months. And then Slade found me, and we helped each other. He taught me how to hunt. And how to fight...and I helped him look for the drug that he'd come for."

"Did he find it?"

Oliver's eyes narrowed at the road, and he nodded once. "Yes. He took it, but it turned him into a different person. I..." Oliver's hand tightened on the steering wheel. "I thought he died on the island."

"From the drug?"

"No. Because I thought I killed him. Lian Yu was the last place I saw him."

Felicity hesitated. She could tell by the tone in his voice that Slade Wilson had been important to him. And she also knew in her heart that killing him, or thinking that he'd killed him, had been one of the hardest things Oliver had ever had to do. And now he'd done it twice. Without any hesitation. "You killed him, again, just an hour ago." Oliver nodded, squeezing her hand a little tighter and keeping his eyes on the road as he drove her car. "For me. You didn't have to make that choice, you didn't have to-"

"He would have hurt you, Felicity," Oliver mumbled, "there was no choice to make."

She could see the pain behind his eyes, and she knew he believed that, but also that it had taken a piece of his soul to do it. He was also The Hood, which...she was far from ready to dive into _that_ yet. 

"You called him Deathstroke..."

"That mask is hard to miss. The locals in the Glades have been calling him that. He's been in town for a while, and I've been trying to find him. I heard rumors about him terrorizing people...killing. I just didn't know what he wanted or who was under the mask."

"Now you do."

Oliver looked at her, "Now he's _dead,_ Felicity...and he can't hurt you or anyone else."

"Where are you taking me?" Felicity asked quietly, surprised that she didn't feel afraid despite the lack of regret in his voice, despite what she'd seen him do or what he was so obviously capable of. That overwhelming feeling of trust flooded through her again, just in time to keep her calm, knowing that he wanted to protect her rather than hurt her.

Oliver offered a small smile. "To a friend. Somewhere safe. I need to...take care of Slade and then I'll try to figure out what he was doing here."

"Why do you think he came after me?"

Oliver sighed. "It can't be a coincidence that he came to this city. He knew I was here, and he knew I'm The Hood. I think he probably... He probably saw me following you. And assumed that you were important. Or he's been watching me since I met you." Oliver's jaw clenched. "I don't know, Felicity. That's what I need to find out."

She raised an eyebrow, "you followed me this morning? Why?"

"Felicity..." he shifted uncomfortably. "I had a bad feeling. I know that's an awful excuse but it's true, and...I was right. As soon as you closed the door this morning, I just felt wrong. And I tried to tell myself that I was just being paranoid that you weren't going to come back. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen."

"So you followed me?" She asked curiously. She thought that she had good instincts, but his were clearly much more impressive.

"I would have reached you sooner if I had just listened to my gut in the first place." He grumbled.

Felicity squeezed his hand just as they pulled into a driveway. Looking up at the massive home, her jaw dropped. "What kind of friends do you have?" She mumbled.

Oliver didn't respond as he pulled up and was greeted by security guards. They waved him through when he rolled the window down and nodded to them, and then he pulled right into the garage like he lived there.

Before they could even step out of the car, a blonde woman opened the door to the house and crossed her arms, "Ollie?"

" _Ollie?_ " Felicity mumbled to herself as she got out.

Oliver came around the car and put a hand on Felicity's back, leading her into the house, following the blonde woman inside without a word. Felicity recognized her as the other bartender at Poison. The Hood owned a bar and his only employee owned a mansion...and Felicity was incredible curious. She looked at Oliver, but he kept his face smooth as the blonde woman led them down the hallway. She finally stopped when they reached the front foyer, raising her arms out and dropping them down. She was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, and she looked as confused as Felicity felt.

"Felicity..." Oliver said, "This is Sara."

The woman didn't take her eyes off of Oliver. "Welcome." She said sarcastically, "What's going on?"

Oliver's hand tightened on Felicity's back. "I need your help..."

The woman raised her eyebrows in question. Felicity was pretty sure that Sara hadn't even looked at her yet, but when Oliver cleared his throat, her eyes finally landed on Felicity. Her expression didn't change as she glanced her up at down. Felicity felt a stab of self-consciousness under the gaze. She cleared her throat uncomfortably, and Oliver pulled her a little closer to his side. "Slade Wilson went after Felicity this morning." Oliver filled the silence.

The woman's eyes hardened. "That's not funny. Slade is dead." She snapped, her eyes darting back to Oliver's. 

He let out a breath. "He is, as of this morning." The only response he got was narrowed eyes. "He was here. He survived the island and he found me. I need...I need to know who he's been in contact with, how he figured out where I was."

"Okay. I'll ask around."

"No, I need to figure this out as soon as possible. Slade knows that Felicity and I...if he told anyone that I'm The Hood, if anyone else knows that Felicity knows me, then I need to make sure she's safe. Sara, I have no idea what's going on. I didn't know that Slade was alive until I was killing him again."

Sara's eyebrows furrowed as she crossed her arms and stepped closer, "What exactly are you asking me to do, Oliver?"

He hesitated, feeling Felicity's back tense under his hand, and he rubbed his thumb over her spine. "I want Felicity to stay here today."

"You want me to babysit your girlfriend?" Sara asked, incredulous. 

"I'm not his girlfriend." Felicity blurted without thinking. "Not yet, anyway. I mean-not at _all_. We've only had one date- although I did sleep in his bed last night- but he hasn't even kissed me yet, so I don't think I should be saying-" She snapped her mouth shut when Oliver's hand slid up her spine. He stopped at the nape of her neck and pushed his fingers against the tense spot that was there, as if he knew her body well enough to know that she had tension there. Which was crazy, because he'd barely _touched_ her body...yet she instantly relaxed under his hand.

Sara quirked an eyebrow, looking at Felicity from her head to her toes. "You expect me to spend the whole day with that and _not_ strangle her?"

Felicity inhaled a tiny gasp, feeling in her bones that the woman in front of her was completely capable of doing exactly that. She was Oliver's employee, but she also knew his secrets. Clearly. She knew about Slade. There was history there, and the longer Sara glared at her, the more that history started to feel like an ex-girlfriend vibe. An ex-girlfriend who could probably murder her. She fought the urge to turn and ask him if he was crazy. Why would he want to leave her here?

Oliver's thumb still massaged her neck, but he didn't look like he realized he was doing it, his attention focused on Sara, "I'm serious. I need to get to the bottom of this and I need Felicity safe." He said assertively, his eyes hard on Sara. "I trust you to do this."

Sara's gaze finally wavered. "Fine."

Oliver nodded once, "Thank you." Then he pulled Felicity to the side, his eyes turning back to her. His hands cupped her face, trying to get her attention to make sure that she was listening. And Felicity forced herself to pull her eyes away from the terrifying woman and look at him. "I'm sorry, Felicity. I know you're worried, and I wish I didn't have to do this. But as soon as I know that you're not in any more danger, you can walk away. I'll let you go, and you won't have to see me again. I just...I need to know that you're safe. Please, stay here for the day."

"Are you asking me or are you telling me?"

His eyes softened as he cocked his head to the side. "I'm _begging_ you."

Felicity's breath caught in her throat, hearing the earnestness in his tone. She nodded, her face slipping against his fingers. Oliver's eyes glanced between hers as his thumbs ran over her cheeks. He nodded back. "I'll see you when you get back," she whispered. Oliver nodded again, taking a deep breath. Then he moved towards the front door. "Oh, Oliver?"

He turned to look at her, and she offered a smile. "I'm not...I'm not quite ready to walk away just yet."

Oliver's smile back was small and unsure, but it was there. "We'll talk more about this later," He mumbled.

He made it outside before she called his name again, and he turned back around. Felicity followed after him, flinging herself into his arms as she wrapped her own around his neck. "What is this for?" He breathed in her ear, his arms forming around her waist. She just held onto him tighter in response. He'd saved her life...comforted her. He was honest with her. He was protecting her. She couldn't believe he thought she wouldn't want to see him again, but she needed him to know that he was wrong. "Oh, Felicity," he murmured into her ear, gently lowering her back to the ground. "You're going to be okay."

"I know," she answered quickly, "so will you."

She watched him nod, squeezing him one more time before stepping back.

Oliver touched her cheek with his thumb before moving his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. And then she watched as he headed off down the driveway. Felicity glanced behind her at Sara, who flashed her a smile, "One second," the woman said. And then she quickly followed after Oliver, jogging down the driveway to catch up to him.

Felicity stood in the doorway for a moment, unable to hear them but knowing that Sara was asking more questions and Oliver was doing his best to answer them quickly. She turned back to the house, going back inside and glancing up at the high ceilings and intricate woodwork. She wondered how a bartender could afford this place, but it was clear that Sara had just as many secrets as Oliver did. She lived in a gated mansion for one thing, equipped with her own private security guards.

Noticing a set of photos on a table in the middle of the foyer, she glanced down at them. There was one of an older man dressed in a chief of police uniform. Another showed Sara sitting on the lap of a brown haired girl. They were both smiling, mouths open as they hugged and laughed. It was strange to see the expression on Sara's face after the introduction she'd just had. She looked happy.

The third photo on the table was of a group of soldiers, dressed in army pants and jackets, but they were posing like a group of friends would, making silly faces and hanging all over each other.

Picking it up, Felicity glanced down at the faces. She noticed Sara first, her blonde hair was long and wild as it blew in the wind. And then it wasn't hard to spot Oliver. He stood right beside Sara in the photo, his arm wrapped around her waist. He was glancing down at her and smiling as she had her head tilted back, letting the wind pick up her hair with her arm around his shoulders. "You like that one?"

Felicity jumped, shoving the frame back down on the table. Sara stood behind her, closing the front door. She didn't respond, finally settling on the uncomfortable feeling of being alone with a complete stranger. One who could definitely kill her and who had already made a comment about doing just that.

"Do you always snoop through strangers' homes?"

Felicity raised her eyebrow, "If you don't want people to look at them, maybe you shouldn't put them on a table right at your front door." 

The woman narrowed her eyes, and Felicity bit her lip. It was Oliver's adamant trust in the woman that made Felicity's feet stay planted to the floor instead of running for the door like her legs wanted to. "So," she said uncomfortably. "You and Oliver were in the military together?"

"Not exactly."

"Is that how you guys met, or...you were on the island too? You knew Deathstroke?"

Sara laughed once, "Deathstroke," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her face was totally different. And she relaxed as she exhaled. Felicity was surprised. It was like she dropped the intimidating, stone cold mask and became a person. "I met Oliver and Slade on Lian Yu. I was running away from some very scary people, and there was no better place to hide than an island that no one was looking for."

Felicity hesitated as Sara brushed past her. She didn't ask her to follow, but Felicity did anyway. She fell in line behind Sara, following her down a long hallway, entering a giant kitchen and heading for the refrigerator. "Oliver and Slade had been living on Lian Yu for four years by the time I showed up. Oliver and I were both seventeen, and I connected with him much easier than Slade Wilson." She hesitated, analyzing Felicity, "Slade had been searching for a drug called Mirakuru, and he was quite frustrated after four years of _not_ finding it. Oliver was much better company."

"So you...you thought that Slade was dead, too?" Felicity asked, clearing her throat.

"Yup." She said, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to Felicity. "I watched Oliver put an arrow in him myself. Last time I saw Slade Wilson, he was plummeting from a cliff to his death with an arrow in his eye. Seemed pretty dead to me."

Felicity winced. Oliver had a slightly less graphic way of describing things. But Sara was giving details. "What happened...exactly?"

"Slade was obsessed with one thing. He was willing to die to get it. Oliver and I didn't know how dangerous Mirakuru was until it was coursing through Slade's body. He became stronger. Faster. _Angrier_. It changed him. He could do things that no human has ever been able to do, Felicity. He went crazy. We didn't have a choice...we had to put him down. If only he'd stayed dead, huh?"

Felicity stared at her for a long moment, gripping the water bottle. "And you and Oliver..."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "I tell you there's a drug that makes people superhuman. That we killed a man. And you want to know if Oliver and I were hooking up?"

Felicity blinked, "Honestly I don't really know if I've processed any of those things you just said yet."

Sara laughed, and Felicity pursed her lips. "You're cute."

Straightening her shoulders, Felicity forced a smile. "Thank you." She was glad to see that Sara wasn't keeping up the intimidation game anymore. The woman in front of her looked more like the girl in the photographs, and she was instantly beginning to like her. 

Sara sighed, "Yes. Oliver and I...we've known each other for a long time. When you're lonely...it's easy to pretend you're not, if you have someone else who understands, you know?"

Felicity looked down at her hands, her heart sinking a little bit. She and Oliver had talked a lot about feeling lonely...and on one hand it broke her heart that he'd felt like that for so long. On the other hand, she didn't like the idea that he was doing the same thing with her that he'd done with Sara. Was he just trying to fill a void? Was she just his new way of escaping his loneliness? Did he love Sara, but he couldn't have her for some reason so he had just asked her out to fill his time?

She looked up when Sara began to move, opening the fridge and pulling out an armful of food. "Do you like breakfast?" She asked. "Oliver said you haven't had a chance to eat."

Felicity bit her lip and nodded, watching as Sara took out a bowl and started cracking eggs. "Thank you." Felicity said. Sara glanced over her shoulder, seeing that Felicity was being genuine, thanking her for breakfast and for letting her stay there.

She didn't want to ask if Sara still had feelings for Oliver. She didn't want to know, especially if she was going to be spending a whole day with her. The woman was letting her hide in this giant mansion, cooking her an omelet  _and_ answering her questions as openly as Oliver did. She wondered if Oliver had asked Sara to do that, and guessed that he probably had.

Still, she didn't have to listen to him. Sara could have refused to talk.

"I recognize you from Poison." Sara said, "You've been in a couple of times."

"Yeah," Felicity nodded, "I like it there." She hesitated as Sara smiled, focusing on her cooking. "What else do you do? Besides bar tending, I mean."

Sara raised an eyebrow at her, "Do you mean, how am I living in a mansion while my boss lives in a crummy apartment above his bar?"

Felicity just shrugged. "Hard to ignore the security men outside your house."

"This used to be the Queen home. Oliver didn't want to live here, so he let me."

Felicity raised her eyebrows, "Oh." They didn't talk again as Sara finished cooking. Felicity got up to make coffee, and Sara told her where to find everything, but that was the most that they spoke. 

As they drank their coffee and ate, Felicity looked outside the window to the massive back yard, her stomach in knots. She couldn't stop thinking that Oliver wouldn't have given Sara his family's mansion if he didn't love her, right? She wondered how it was even possible, if the world believed that Oliver Queen had died fifteen years ago. But she didn't ask about it, not wanting to hear more of their story. At least not in that moment and not from Sara. It'd been an incredibly long morning. She wanted to crawl back in bed, not hear about the dating history of the man she was falling for. 

"Do you have a phone charger I could borrow?" Felicity asked, remembering that she hadn't talked to Iris since before her date, and if her friend wasn't awake yet, she would be soon. And her phone would be blowing up.

Sara shook her head, "I don't own a phone."

Felicity frowned. "How?"

Sara smiled, "Cell phones are useless when you don't want to be found."

"Right," Felicity breathed. "Who exactly...do you not want to find you?"

"The devil." Sara answered quickly, her voice just above a whisper. Felicity's eyes widened, and Sara gave her a shy smile. "Sorry...a very bad man."

Obviously that answer raised more questions...but Felicity was so tapped out. She just wanted to turn her brain off. "Well," she said, stretching her legs out in front of her, "what if we took a little trip to my apartment?" 

Sara's eyes narrowed at her over her coffee cup. "Ollie said that you had to stay put."

She sighed, "I know. But I have a best friend who will probably send Starling PD out to find me if I don't respond to her all day. And my phone is about to die." Felicity shrugged, "besides, I have no idea if any more psychotic killers are going to come after me, so I'd at least like to have some clean clothes just in case." She gestured down at herself, realizing that she was still wearing Oliver's shirt. "My toothbrush. Maybe a hairbrush."

"I have all of that here."

Felicity bit her lip, "Sara...Slade's dead. You...Oliver trusts you, so I trust you. Please? We'll be quick."

Sara stared at her for a long time before rolling her eyes, "Fine, but only because It's my personal opinion that Oliver is overreacting."

They walked to the garage, and Sara didn't hesitate before grabbing a helmet from a shelf and pointing to a motorcycle tucked in the corner. Felicity's eyes widened, "You don't want to take my car?"

"If Slade did have a partner, and they knew about you, your car's not safe to be driving around the city. Hop on." She said, throwing her own leg over the bike and starting it up.

Felicity gestured to the other car parked in the garage, "That's a nice car. What if we take that?"

Sara smiled and shook her head, holding out the helmet for her, "Either get on the bike or we go back inside, Felicity."

"Fine," Felicity groaned, taking the helmet and putting it on before she climbed onto the back of the motorcycle.

She'd never been on one before, and Sara seemed to find it quite amusing. She drove faster than the speed limit and Felicity swore she felt her laughing every time she yelped or gripped her waist too tight. By the time they reached Felicity's apartment, her knuckles hurt from clutching onto Sara's jacket so tightly.

Sara was still highly amused as Felicity led the way, walking inside and up the stairs, but her smile dropped when they reached the door to the apartment. Felicity froze too. 

It was cracked open, and Sara's back tensed. "Stay behind me," she ordered. Felicity obeyed, keeping close to her back as she followed Sara inside. Sara's feet were silent as she moved, her eyes scanning the apartment. Felicity glanced all around, leaning over Sara's arm.

Both of their heads snapped up when they heard a noise in the kitchen. And Sara slowly made her way down the hallway towards it. Felicity's heart began to race as she followed her. One crazy person trying to kill her was enough for one day. She might have a mental breakdown if it happened _twice_ in one morning.

As they approached the kitchen, Sara was so silent that Felicity didn't even notice when or how she'd pulled out a knife, or where she'd pulled it from. But as they leaned around the corner to look into the kitchen, she raised it at the figure standing by Felicity's sink. 

It took Felicity a moment to recognize the dark hair, turned away from them as she and Sara crept up from behind. Sara's arm came back, ready to throw the knife straight at the head in front of them. "Wait!" Felicity screamed, grabbing her wrist.

Sara froze, and Iris screeched as she turned to look at them. "What the hell!?" Her best friend yelled, her hand flying to her heart.

"Iris," Felicity sighed, pushing past Sara, "What are you doing here?"

"I stopped by to see how your date went and to get coffee!" She said, her eyes widening as she caught a glimpse of the knife that Sara was currently moving to hide behind her back. She stared at the blonde, "I figured you were just out for a jog...was that woman about to throw a knife at me?"

"Uh...well..." Felicity pursed her lips, "I had a bit of an experience this morning...Sara is just...trying to keep me safe."

Iris brought her eyes to Felicity's. "What happened, are you okay? Is she like...a cop or something?"

"No." Sara answered with a wide grin. 

Iris hesitated, unsure what to make of the knife-wielding woman. Felicity could see the confused wheels turning in Iris' head but she didn't have time to explain everything to Iris. She had no idea when or if Oliver would get the answers he was looking for. And they needed to make sure they were back to the mansion before him, knowing that Sara had promised him they'd stay put.

Felicity opened her mouth to say something, but a dark figure outside the window caught her eye. Someone was on her fire escape, and her breath hitched in her throat. Sara's gaze followed Felicity's, her eyes snapping to the window as she saw the panic on her face. "Sara," Felicity whispered, "someone's here-" The blade was suddenly back in Sara's hand, her body crouching in front of Felicity as she angled herself towards the window.

The figure was gone, and the moment that followed felt so long that Felicity wondered if she had imagined it. Iris was in the middle of a question just as the sound of glass shattering broke the silence. Iris and Felicity both ducked as glass fell at their feet from three different windows. "Shit!" Iris screamed, stumbling away from the masked man that had just busted in through the kitchen window. Two more dressed exactly the same stood silently in the living room, and Iris screamed again.

They were each dressed in all black, nothing of their bodies was visible but their eyes. Each of them took a step forward in the girls' direction, completely in unison. Felicity glanced down at Sara, who held her knife up and muttered, "hell must be empty," to herself. Felicity almost didn't hear it, but she was reminded of Sara's unusual comment about hiding from the devil earlier, and her heart sank to the floor. And she'd thought Deathstroke was a scary sight...

"Iris, run!" She screamed, hoping that the men would let her friend escape without trying to stop her.

Iris darted for the door, yelling over her shoulder, "Felicity, come on!"

Felicity stayed behind Sara, not wanting to leave her to fight three men on her own, but not knowing what else to do besides hide behind her. The men didn't take another step, and Felicity stared, seeing that their eyes were all focused on Sara...who wasn't moving a muscle either, still crouched down like she was ready to attack.

"Ta-er al-Sahfer," One of them said.

Felicity watched as Sara inhaled sharply. "Don't call me that," she hissed. 

And then she was moving. And Felicity couldn't help but stare in shock. 

Sara used her  kitchen counter as a catapult and sent herself flying at one of the men, wrapping her arms around his neck and spinning around to kick another one in the chest when he lunged towards her. She landed on her feet silently, one arm still wrapped around the man's neck, the one who had spoken. They were back to back, and Sara _pulled_.

Felicity yelped as she heard the cracking of his neck.

Her eyes slammed shut, not wanting to see it, but Sara had done it too fast for her to close her eyes in time. The other two men charged her at once, and Sara jumped again, wrapping her legs around one of their bodies and bringing him to the floor. She was working on getting her blade into his chest as he pushed her arms back from underneath her, and Felicity couldn't take her eyes away.

"Sara!" she yelled, watching as the second man came up behind her, a sword raised and ready to swing. Sara ducked quickly, spinning around until her legs caught his, effectively knocking him to the floor beside the other one. She stepped on his wrist until he released the blade. And then she stood up, taking it in her hands and letting out a pained grunt as she dropped to her knees on top of him, stabbing him through the heart.

Felicity gasped, holding her breath. She didn't notice that the last man still alive had stood up and taken out his own sword. But he was suddenly  behind Sara, holding the blade to her throat. "Do you surrender, Ta-er al-Sahfer?"

Felicity was surprised to see a small smile on Sara's lips, expectant and almost amused. "You were trained by the same man as I, Sarab. We were not trained to surrender. We have never known such a word."

"Ra's wants your head." The man said, pressing the sword a little harder against Sara's neck, causing a small drop of blood to fall down her throat. Sara winced, but leaned further into it, mumbling something unintelligible to him.

"Wait!" Felicity cried. "You came here for me!" She watched as Sara's eyes slid to meet hers. "Please," she mumbled, holding her gaze for a moment before glancing up at the man. "You came here for me. Take me-kill _me_ , just leave her alone."

No one moved in the long silence that followed. Sara couldn't see the man's face, but the second his eyes glanced to Felicity, she shifted. Sara quickly grabbed the man's wrist and yanked it back. Her face was impassive as he cried out. Silently, she kicked her leg out behind her, causing the man to fall forward.

And Felicity squeezed her eyes shut as Sara calmly held out the sword she'd taken from his hand and slid her body to the side so that he didn't fall on top of her. The man fell right onto the sword in Sara's hand, piercing him through the heart. She dropped it and stood up. "We need to go."

Her expression was cold as she lifted her eyes to Felicity, who nodded with her eyes still closed. "Yeah, okay. Let's just- leave the dead guys here and run."

"My men will take care of them. But more will come. We need to get you out of here." Sara said, wiping the blood from her hands onto one of the men's cloaks. She'd just killed three men in her kitchen, but Felicity was more breathless than she was. "Ollie is going to _kill_ me. _Shit_." She crossed the room quickly, gripped Felicity's arm.

Felicity froze, and Sara finally looked at her, "I'm not going to hurt you, Felicity." she promised quietly. And Felicity exhaled, letting Sara drag her to the door as she stumbled along. "Who were they? Friends of Slade?"

"Those were members of the League of Assassins. Slade Wilson is nothing compared to them."

"The League of... _what_?" Felicity let out a shocked breath as Sara guided her down the stairs. "That sounds as terrifying as Deathstroke."

"Trust me," Sara muttered, "They are much worse. And if they're after you, we need to get out of here."

Sara burst through the side door of the building and Felicity could see her immediately scanning the alley, still gripping Felicity's jacket sleeve as she pulled her to the bike. Iris was pacing the sidewalk as they rounded the corner, and she rushed towards them as soon as she looked up. "Felicity! Are you okay? I thought you were right behind me-I just ran-I thought-"

"It's okay," Felicity soothed, "You're okay. I'm okay."

"What happened to those people? Who were they? I called the police, they should be here any minute."

Sara sighed, reaching into Felicity's back pocket without asking and pulling out her phone. She took a step to the side as she dialed a number and brought the phone to her ear. And then she was tugging on Felicity again, pulling her towards the motorcycle as she mumbled into the phone in what sounded like Russian. Felicity dug her feet in, "I can't leave Iris here."

Sara gave her an irritated look, and then she looked at Iris. "Start heading home. I'll send someone to follow you and keep an eye on your house. Good enough?" Without waiting for a response, she started speaking into the phone again, sounding like she was giving orders, not that Felicity could understand a word of it.

"What-" Iris began to ask.

"I don't have time." Sara clipped, "Do what I tell you to do, and maybe your friend won't end up dead. Deal?"

Iris blinked, her eyes sliding to Felicity. "You sure she's not a cop?"

Felicity made a face, "Honestly, I have no idea."

Sara rolled her eyes, "Okay. Time to go. Iris, just get in your car and start driving. You'll be safe. Felicity," she said, heading for the bike again. "Let's go."

Felicity yanked her arm away, knowing that she only slipped out of Sara's grip because the woman had allowed it. She threw her arms around her best friend. "I'm sorry. I'll call you and I'll-" She snapped her jaw shut, stopping herself from promising an explanation. She didn't even have one for herself, how could she assure her friend of that comfort? "I'll call you when I can."

"Be safe," Iris said, eyeing Sara suspiciously.

"Trust me, if you saw Sara do what I just saw her do, you wouldn't be doubting my safety at all."

Sara slid onto her bike, holding out the helmet for Felicity, and she smirked at the comment. Felicity climbed on the back of it after hugging Iris one more time. Then she closed her eyes and waited for the nausea to pass.  But it didn't, and soon they were pulling into the garage of Sara's mansion, or Oliver's mansion, Felicity felt like throwing up her breakfast. Or passing out. She didn't know.

"Deep breaths." Sara mumbled, taking her hand and helping her up the stairs and into the house. She lead her to the couch and sat her down, and then she darted off into the kitchen, returning again with a bottle of water. "Drink," she ordered. Felicity listened, taking a few sips of the water as she stared at Sara. She and Oliver were so alike that it was both unsettling and comforting.

"Is Iris going to be okay?"

Sara nodded, "I have someone watching her house. She's safe."

As Sara sat down beside her, Felicity's eyes followed her face. "Now what?" She whispered.

"Now you rest, and I have some of my men find Oliver."

"Those people..."

"The League of Assassins." Sara filled in, as if it was a common thing to say.

Felicity let out a breath, "Right. Was that...were they who you were running from before you wound up on Lian Yu?"

Sara raised an eyebrow, "You're quick." She sighed, "Yes. I was a member. But...as the name suggests...it was a lot of death. A lot of blood on my hands," she hesitated, her eyes focused on the coffee table in front of her like she was staring at a ghost. "I couldn't do it anymore. But you can't...you don't just _quit_ The League of Assassins. You die with them. So I had to run." She shrugged.

"How did you get off of Lian Yu? How did Oliver?" She asked, her voice weak.

Sara glanced up at her, "Get some rest, Felicity. And stop worrying about stories. It's not important. Keeping you safe is what matters."

Felicity nodded, knowing that arguing would be pointless, especially when Oliver found out about their little outing. She knew he'd agree with Sara. She'd been keeping her cool so far. Part of her had been hoping that Deathstroke had just been bad luck. Wrong place, wrong time. Maybe it had nothing to do with Oliver. Maybe he'd just been terrorizing the streets like Oliver said, and he'd seen her walking alone.

It was wishful thinking, she knew, but without any answers, she had to hope that Slade was the end of it.

An entire League of assassins finding themselves in her apartment though... that was probably not a coincidence.

Felicity sighed, putting her water aside and grabbing a pillow that was next to her. She quickly put it on Sara's legs and dropped her head onto her lap. Felicity didn't care if she'd just met her or that she was a deadly ex-assassin. She didn't want to be alone.

Sara froze, but Felicity didn't care about that either. She hesitated for a moment, keeping her hands frozen above Felicity. And Felicity closed her eyes, focusing on taking some nice, relaxing breaths.

Finally, Sara sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling a blanket off of it to place over Felicity's shoulders.

* * *

Felicity didn't open her eyes again until the sun had gone down. And when she did, she was alarmed to find herself in a dark room, alone and lying on an unfamiliar bed. She sat up immediately, glancing around as she pushed the blanket on top of her away. A clock beside the bed told her that it was a little after 7:00. She remembered falling asleep on Sara's couch, and she was about to start getting anxious when she heard Oliver's voice in the hallway.

"Why would you go to her apartment?" He was asking, his voice right outside the door. "I told you to stay here! What were you thinking?" He was whispering, but clearly trying not to yell.

"She's alive. I kept her safe, didn't I?" Felicity recognized Sara's voice responding, much softer than Oliver's.

She laid perfectly still, looking up at the ceiling and listening. "You never should have left, Sara! I trusted you!"

"She's fine, Oliver! We have bigger problems than this argument right now, don't you think?"

"No," he snapped back. "There's no _we_. You could have gotten Felicity killed today."

"The closest she came to being in any danger was when she put _herself_ in it. I had it handled, but she tried to die for me. She was willing to." Sara replied, her voice going from anger to disbelief.

"What?" He asked, sounding like he'd had the wind knocked out of him.

"Maseo was ready to kill me and bring my head to Ra's. Felicity stopped him. He lost his focus for a moment and I put him down. At first I thought that it was her plan...to distract him, throw him off so that I could get the upper hand. But then I realized that she was serious." Sara sighed, "She would have died for me. And she barely even knows me. I'm still pretty sure that she doesn't even _like_ me. But she was willing to put my life over her own." She paused, "I can see that you feel something for her, Ollie. Something _strong_. Meaningful. What me and you had was never strong. It was important, and we needed it, but we both knew that it wasn't...what it's _supposed_ to be."

"Sara, I can't talk about this right now..."

"I know that you care about her, Ollie. I'm trying to say that I _get_ it. I already care about her, too...and I want to help. Not as a favor to you. I want to help _her_."

There was a long silence between them, and Felicity almost got up, thinking that they must have walked away, but then she heard Oliver sigh and she stilled, wiping a tear from her neck that she hadn't realized escaped. Sara's words made her _emotional_. She hadn't thought twice before pleading with that assassin to kill her instead. And Sara hadn't mentioned it.

"I'll need someone to keep an eye on the city while I'm gone," Oliver said quietly, "Look out for Felicity's friends and her mother. That's what you can do to help, Sara. Keep the people that she loves from getting hurt because of my mess."

"Felicity should stay with me, she'll be safe here. At least for now, The League can't touch her here."

"Maybe." Oliver let out a deep breath, "I'd like for her to be out of Starling, but I don't know if she'll want to go. Sara... The League has ways of knowing...even if Maseo and the others are dead, Ra's might put this together. They might figure out that you're alive and that you're here."

"I'll handle The Demon's Head and his minions. But Oliver, you know how they work...I've told you-"

"Don't."

"Come on. The League takes out threats to society, Oliver. They have a code. strict rules that they follow. If they want Felicity dead, there's a reason...and it has nothing to do with _you_."

"No," he argued, "This is about me. It has to be connected to Slade somehow. It's my fault, and I need to leave so that I can fix it."

"Oliver..."

Suddenly the door opened, cutting Sara off. Felicity froze, going stiff and slamming her eyes shut in surprise. She heard footsteps and the sound of Oliver's sigh as he closed the door, coming into the room. Then she felt the edge of the bed sink in as he sat down. She opened her eyes, picking her head up to look at him.

His back was to her, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He looked exhausted...defeated.

She moved without another thought, sliding across the bed until she reached him. Running her hands over his back, she heard him sigh and turn around. He gave her a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, did I wake you up? I'm sorry."

She shook her head, pressing her lips into his back as her hands grazed his shoulders from behind. He tilted his head down so he could see her. "I heard you talking to Sara," she whispered, not wanting to disturb the calm darkness in the room. She knew that she had every reason to be freaking out, and that he wouldn't judge her if she was, but she didn't feel worried anymore. Just his presence made the knot in her stomach seem a little smaller. Made her heart feel lighter.

"She told me what happened today." He said back, his voice just as low.

"Did you find anything out about Slade?"

Oliver's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Not really. It seems like he was alone. Most of the people in the Glades were terrified of him, not working with him."

"Then I guess it's good that he can't bother them anymore," she whispered back, keeping her lips on his shoulder because it felt _so_ good. He hung his head down, staring at his hands as he wrung them together. "Hey..." she mumbled, reaching up to massage the nape of his neck the same way that he'd done for her that morning. "I know that this is really hard for you..."

Oliver laughed once, turning his head to look down at her. Felicity's hands moved to his hair, and she ran her fingers through it. "People are trying to kill you, and you think this is hard for _me_? Felicity..." he turned more, twisting his body and breaking out of her embrace so that he could look at her fully. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed, actually feeling like it was true. She slid her hands down his arms, and he opened his hands, letting her lace her fingers through his."I feel better with you here, Oliver." His eyes softened as he studied her. "I heard you..." she gestured towards the door, "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes," he answered, untangling one of his hands so he could brush her messy hair away from her face. She was sure that she looked like a wreck, but he was staring at her like she was the opposite. "I have to get answers, and I won't find them here." He spoke quietly, glancing at his fingers as they gently moved through her hair. "I... Felicity, I-" he huffed, "I can't let anything happen to you. I won't."

"I know." She responded quickly, meaning it. She trusted it, she trusted him. He opened his mouth to say more but then closed it.

His hands came up to cup each side of her face, seemingly at a loss for words. Felicity gave him a small smile, her heart warming at the expression on his face. She knew that she was safe with him, that he'd do everything in his power to keep her safe. How, in spite of her whole world blowing up around her, did she feel a tiny twinge of happiness because he was touching her? He looked at her like she mattered to him, and it made butterflies stir in her stomach, taking the place of the knot that had been there before. "I trust you, Oliver." She whispered.

He glanced away, "You wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me. If I hadn't dragged you into this."

"Were you a member of the...that League of Assassins thingy?" Oliver breathed out a laugh and shook his head. Felicity sighed, "This isn't your fault."

"Yes it is, Felicity," he whispered, "None of this would be happening if I could have just left you alone."

"But I don't want you to leave me alone." She mumbled back.

He sighed, "You're going to be okay, Felicity. I'm going to figure this out."

Felicity slowly pulled back from him, and he looked at her questioningly. "I don't want you to feel responsible for me, Oliver."

His eyebrows pushed together, "I'm responsible, Felicity. You've known me for a few days and you've already had people try to kill you twice. Of course I feel responsible."

"Well you shouldn't," she answered, sliding away from him. He caught her wrist, stopping her from getting any further. "I make my own decisions."

"I don't doubt that, Felicity. But what part about Deathstroke or The League of Assassins did you choose? When did you decide for any of this to happen to you? _I_ brought that down on you."

She huffed, "I chose to go to my apartment today. After you told me to stay here." She didn't regret that, especially after she realized that if she hadn't, the League could have broken in and found Iris alone. "It wasn't Sara's fault, Oliver. It was my choice."

"Was it your choice to risk your life, too? Offer yourself up to them?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Yes. It was."

Oliver leveled her with a look, "Felicity-"

"He was going to kill Sara." She said before he could finish.

"She's a trained assassin, Felicity. She doesn't need you to protect her, or sacrifice yourself..."

Felicity lifted her shoulders, "I just thought that maybe he'd let her live, if I was compliant. They were there for me."

"I know," he sighed, dropping his head again and gripping the back of his neck.

"Hey," Felicity said softly, closing the distance she'd made until her thigh was pressed to his as they sat on the edge of the bed. She looped her arms around one of his, nestling into his shoulder. "Let's just...stop talking about the past and figure out what we're going to do now. You and me. Together."

"I have some friends in Coast City who might be able to give us some answers," he sighed, "I need to go see them," She nodded slowly, her cheek brushing against his shoulder, hoping that he'd meant it as an invitation. Oliver glanced down, looking into her eyes, "Will you come with me?"

Felicity stared back at him, knowing with perfect clarity that she could say no...and he would leave her. He'd go to Coast City alone and trust that she was safe with Sara.

But she could also see what he wanted. His eyes were pleading...the emotion was right there for her to read. He wanted her to say yes. And he didn't bother to hide it at all. "Do you want me to go with you?" She asked anyway, wanting to hear him say it, "instead of staying here?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tensing. "I honestly don't know if you'd be safer here at the mansion or with me, Felicity. I can't even tell you what's going on, so I have no idea...I don't want you to be afraid. I _will_ protect you, but I honestly don't know the best way to do that. I'm not sure what's the right call here. And I know it's a lot to ask, for you to leave your friends and family..."

"I'm not asking what you think we _should_ do. Do you _want_ me to go with you?" She asked again, already knowing the answer.

He sighed, "Yes, I do."

"Then let me decide what I want."

He nodded slowly, "It's up to you. I understand if you'd rather stay here with Sara, but I'd prefer to know where you are, to know that you're safe. And I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I could protect you myself."

"Why?" She asked.

"Why what?" He asked gently, glancing down his nose at her when she rested her chin on his shoulder. She shook her head gently, knowing that he knew exactly what she was asking. He nodded once, "Because I care about you, Felicity. Much more than I have a right to. And I want you with me. I  _want_ you..." He said, turning his hand and pressing his warm palm to her thigh.

She nodded slowly, gripping his forearm tighter. His eyes didn't glance away, but after a moment she closed her own. Felicity pressed her nose to his shirt and inhaled the delicious scent that was uniquely _him_. "Okay," she whispered. "I want to go where you're going. I want to be with you, Oliver." She'd intended to sound casual, but her voice cracked, and even her own ears could hear the emotion behind her words.

She wanted to be with him in more than just the physical sense of wherever he was going, and her heart was racing as she heard his words echoing in her ears; _I want you._

He calmed her, made her feel things that she couldn't unpack yet. Things that were foreign, different from how she'd ever felt about anyone. And she sat with him in silence for a while, letting herself feel it and understanding perfectly that he was doing the same thing.

Oliver finally squeezed her leg, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. He rubbed her nose gently with his own, "Well," he sighed, "we should get on the road, then. I want to be at A.R.G.U.S headquarters as soon as possible."


	6. The Games That Play Us

Two days in a car was way too long. Felicity had her forehead pressed to the cool glass window, trying to use it to calm herself down. But she felt like screaming. Or crying. If her pride wasn't so prominent, she probably would have. But Oliver sat next to her, and he'd had less sleep than her and he'd insisted on driving the whole way. She had no idea how much longer the trip was to Coast City. She'd stopped asking when she got tired of the answer always being longer than "five more minutes."

It'd also been raining since they left, which just added to that knot in her stomach, making her whole body feel like it was twisting uncomfortably. Her legs were aching, her chest hurt, and she was fighting the urge to have a meltdown. The longer she sat in the car, the more her anxiety grew.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Felicity gripped her fingers together, pushing harder against the window. The rain had been relaxing at first, helping to keep her calm and put her to sleep for the first forty eight hours of this trip. But now it was driving her crazy. It hadn't stopped. The lack of sunshine definitely didn't help the feeling inside of her, the nauseous turning in her stomach. If she could crawl out of her skin, she would. 

Inhaling, she told herself not to be dramatic. Everything was fine. She really didn't want Oliver to think she couldn't handle this. If _she_ was miserable, she knew that he must feel ten times worse. Opening one eye to look at him, she saw that he seemed perfectly relaxed behind the wheel. Well, as relaxed as he could be, driving out of the city he had promised to protect. The whole trip, she'd been noticing him glancing over his shoulder, scoping out every gas station they stopped at as if he was ready for more of those assassins in cloaks to start charging out of any corner.

Felicity was starting to feel crazy.

A strangled groan escaped her throat, one that she didn't realize was hers until she recognized her own voice, and she snapped her mouth shut.

Oliver glanced at her, "You okay?" His voice was soft and soothing, but it wasn't doing anything to help the anxious feeling rising from her chest. Blinking back tears that she prayed he couldn't see, she nodded.

At least she'd slept at Sara's and in the car. In the past two days, Oliver had only gotten a couple of hours, just before they left. Nearly two days ago. Her heart broke for how exhausted he must be, for what he was putting himself through. Taking himself away from Starling and doing all of this to protect her.

He needed sleep, too. He needed a hot shower and a freaking back rub or something. He deserved one. She could do that, right? Would he let her? He'd taken a nap with her before they took off, in one of Sara's guest rooms and he'd held her tightly between his arms the whole time, just like he had in his apartment. And he held her hand in the car. She had no idea what the boundaries with him were or if a back rub would be crossing it.

When she didn't answer, he glanced over at her again. "Felicity?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing, "Are you okay?"

"I want to stop." She whispered, blinking rapidly, speaking out loud making her feel more emotional.

He hesitated, watching her carefully. "Felicity..." he said slowly, "I don't think we should. We'll be in Coast City in about seven hours, and then you'll be safe-"

She groaned, "Seven hours?" In retrospect, that was nothing compared to the forty eight they'd already traveled, but seven _more_ sounded like hell.

It felt impossible. No way. She'd rip her own legs off before she made it another seven hours.

Even as she cursed herself for such dramatic thoughts, Felicity felt her eyes swell with tears. Quickly looking out her window, she blinked the unexpected traitors away. She was just overtired and upset about being cramped in the car for so long. Or maybe it was almost being killed, twice, that was bringing on this mini meltdown. Or watching four people get killed in one morning.

Okay, so she had plenty to cry about.

Oliver held himself together so well that she refused to break down. She felt irrational getting upset in front of someone who had the physical and emotional scars that Oliver Queen possessed. But forcing herself to be strong when all she wanted to do was cry, was clearly making it worse. If she had given herself the proper time to break down earlier, she might not feel like a ball of nerves now. But she'd been bottling this all up for two days. Pretending she was fine every time he asked her if she wanted to talk about it. He had tried to get her to let it out, but she'd bit it back down, wanting to show him and herself that she was handling it, no problem. Boy, was that plan a bad one.

She gasped when Oliver suddenly pulled off the road. Her eyes flew to him as he stepped on the brake, and his hands were already reaching for her face, wiping away the tears that had silently escaped. The look of concern on his face tore the gates wide open, and she sobbed. The moment he touched her face, her body heaved. Letting out a strangled cry, she crawled across the seat until she was in his lap. 

"Okay," he mumbled, cradling her head to his chest. "We'll stop. I'm sorry, Felicity. We can stop for the night."

Felicity closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. She shook her head, "I'm sorry. I'm trying to keep it together, I swear."

"Felicity," he whispered, brushing her hair away from her face and wiping away the tears with his palms. "You don't have to be strong for me, it's okay to be afraid. Or upset about all of this. I understand. This is jarring, and I've been thinking about keeping you safe. But I want you to be happy, too. I need for you to _feel_ safe, too. You're miserable." He mumbled, staring down at her as his fingers soothed through her hair.

"You need sleep." She sniffed, "And a shower. And real food." She sighed, tucking her face into his chest.

"Don't worry about me, baby. I'm fine." He murmured. Felicity wrapped both of her arms around his middle, clinging onto him like she needed to and feeling her heart beat a little faster at _baby_. "It's okay, Felicity. You're okay." Oliver held her for a long moment, and she realized that he was waiting for her to let go. The rain became soothing again, listening to it at the same time as she heard his heartbeat beneath her ear and felt his warm, strong arms around her. His lips pressed to the top of her head, and his fingers rubbed her back.

She pulled back slightly to see his face, and she knew how pathetic she must look because his eyes softened with sympathy. "You need to sleep, too."

Oliver smiled gently, giving her a nod. He could probably survive the last seven hours without a mental breakdown, and she knew the stop was solely for her benefit, but he pretended he needed it, anyway. He shifted her off his lap, settling her right beside him, pressed to his side. And he wrapped his arm around her, tucking her under it as he began to drive. She sighed, closing her eyes. Between his fingers on her arm and the sound of the rain, she finally calmed down.

When she opened her eyes again, they were outside a motel, not realizing she'd fallen asleep. The rain was still pouring, and the clock told her that she'd only been asleep for twenty minutes. Picking her head up from his shoulder, she looked at Oliver sheepishly, "Sorry," she whispered. He was the one who hadn't slept in days. The least she could do was not use him like a pillow while he was trying to drive.

He just shook his head, "This is the first place I saw. Do you want to stay here or keep going?" 

Felicity glanced at the building and groaned in relief, "A bed is a bed." she sighed. Oliver nodded once, his face somber as his eyes roamed the motel like he was looking for something. He glanced at each of the windows, the office, and then the area around it, somehow seeming like he could see all of it at once. It was too dark for her to see anything beyond the lights lining the pathway, but she got the feeling that his eyes could see a lot more than that. "What are you doing?" She asked softly, her breath catching at the intense focus behind his gaze.

Oliver shrugged, his body relaxed, telling a different story than his eyes did. "Just checking my surroundings. I don't like walking into new places and not knowing what to expect...especially with you here." He'd done the same thing at the gas stations and even while he drove, always keeping his eyes open, but this was a little more focused, like he was examining every inch of the space that he could see.

Felicity followed his eyes as they stared down the dark trees behind the motel. His time on the island must have gave him some kind of sensitivity to the darkness, and she tried to see whatever he was seeing, with no luck.

She was extremely ready to get out of the car, but he had his arm around her as he waited, making her feel grounded, so she sat patiently.

After a few more minutes, he eyed her apologetically, letting out a deep breath. She raised an eyebrow, "Safe?"

"Yes. You're always safe with me." He said gently, kissing her hand once. She smiled, knowing that he meant it. 

Sara had packed her a duffel bag and a backpack full of clothes and toiletries before they left, and Oliver had emerged with his own bag. She didn't want to know why he kept clothes at her mansion. Actually, she didn't want to ask about the mansion and Sara at all, although she was curious...about their history, that photo of them in the military, and why he'd given her the Queen estate. _How_ he'd done it. But she was still afraid of what that answer would be.

Felicity waited in a lobby chair while Oliver checked them in, and then he silently took her hand and led them to the room. Her eyes burned they hurt so badly, so ready for actual sleep, not the half asleep, waking up every two minutes you get in a car. As he dropped his bag on the floor of the room, he finally looked like his exhaustion was catching up to him, his eyes falling to the bed as he sighed.

Oliver turned on a desk lamp, offering to let her shower first, but she just shook her head. She took the time to brush her teeth and change into a fresh set of clothes before climbing into the bed. She really did want to shower, but fatigue was winning and the bed felt way too good.

Oliver quietly shut the bathroom door behind himself as Felicity laid her head on the pillow, stretching her legs out under the blanket and sighing. She turned onto her side, focusing on staring out at the street lights shining in through the window and trying to keep her eyes open. She heard the shower turn on, and he was _naked_ in there. Her heart sped up, and she rolled her eyes at herself, suddenly not as tired as she thought she was. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried not to think about the glimpses of his scarred chest she'd gotten to see, the taut muscles over his broad shoulders and muscular back...or his _abs_. 

Oliver was opening the door in less than five minutes, and she wondered if that was even satisfying. She loved showers, loved taking her time. There was nothing better than the hot water after a long day, but Oliver didn't seem like the type to revel in those pleasures. Which started to make her think about what kind of things he _did_ revel in. What does a man like that do...to relax? Video games seemed ridiculous. Did he read? She knew he enjoyed coffee, but who doesn't indulge in caffeine? What makes him feel better, what comforts him, keeps him sane?

Sara popped into her head, and she huffed. Definitely not the answer she wanted to think about.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, seeing him turning the desk lamp off, facing away from her and wrapped in a towel. She inhaled sharply, turning her head back over. The towel was tight, and he was holding it at his hip to keep it closed, and he was _wet_.

By the way he froze, she knew he'd heard her little gasp, and she laid still, squeezing her eyes shut. After a moment, she heard him unzipping his bag, pulling clothes out and walking back into the bathroom. He changed in the dark bathroom, keeping the door open, and she cursed herself for wanting to turn over so she could see him. And then she heard his feet padding over to the bed, where he froze again behind her. Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder at him, seeing him hovering, wearing a pair of boxers. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes darting up to his. His face was in shadows, only visible from the lights outside coming in through the window. The sight might be intimidating if his presence didn't have the opposite effect on her. Seeing his giant form standing over her made her feel safe, not afraid.

His eyebrows were pushed together as he watched her face. "What's wrong?" She whispered, sitting up.

"I don't..." He gestured at the floor, "do you want me to sleep with you?" Felicity raised an eyebrow, and he exhaled, cocking his head to the side. "In the bed, I mean...because I don't mind sleeping on the floor if you want to be alone-"

"Don't be silly," she cut him off, reaching out to turn the comforter down, inviting him in. They'd already spent nearly a week together. This was the third bed they'd be sharing, there was no point in being modest now.

He nodded, relieved by the answer. Expecting him to crawl in behind her, she yelped in surprise when came around to her side of the bed, lifting her into his arms like she weighed nothing and easing her across the mattress onto the cold, empty. "What-"

Oliver just gestured to the door, "I need to sleep closer to the door." He said lowly. She stiffened for a moment. Oh. The implication wasn't lost on her. If someone busted in there while they slept, which seemed like a very real possibility, he wanted to be the first thing they saw. Letting out her breath, she watched as he settled in beside her. It wasn't just an unfamiliar-creepy-motel-thing. This is what he does. How he has to be. He's protective, and calculating, and defensive. And she felt perfectly comfortable with that.

Because she _understood_ him, she realized. He was protective of _her_. He scanned the darkness with that calculated look on his face because he was making sure that _she_ was safe. He was guarded for reasons that she couldn't comprehend, but he felt the need to defend _her_.

She laid on her back as she thought, staring up at the ceiling. So lost in thought, she didn't notice Oliver's hesitation, lying beside her and waiting for her to curl up against him like she'd done in his apartment, and again at Sara's. When she didn't move to him, her turned onto his side, facing the door. Felicity propped up on her elbow to look down at him. He must have sensed it, because he tipped his chin, looking over his shoulder at her. She raised an eyebrow.

Oliver laughed gently, turning over completely. His hands were hesitant as he reached out for her, but she slid into them immediately. He was shirtless, his skin was warm, and his arms felt amazing. How could he think she didn't want to fall asleep like this? It was like a safe little bubble in his arms, where assassins and crazy people that called themselves Deathstroke didn't exist. "Are you tired?" She whispered.

Oliver let out a breath of air, kissing her forehead. "Yeah. Are you?"

She really wasn't. Not anymore. Not with his muscles so close to her face. He smelled amazing. Motel shampoo shouldn't smell so good, but it did on him. He had a scent to his skin that was woodsy and delicious. It was comforting, familiar somehow, and completely perfect. "Yeah," she sighed, trying to stop her heart from racing. 

He felt so amazing, but she was pretty sure that she looked like a drowned raccoon and smelled the same. It was not sexy. It couldn't be, and she definitely didn't want that to be what he experienced the first time they...she gulped, her eyes snapping open to look at his chest. 

"You're so hot." He mumbled, pressing his lips to her forehead.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips, "Uh, back at you."

Oliver chuckled, "I meant your skin." he murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead again. She closed her eyes, realizing that he was feeling her temperature. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah," she said, begging her body to relax. She felt herself getting hotter though, now that she was made aware of it. "I'm fine. Sorry I'm being such a handful."

She could feel him shaking his head, his lips brushing against her hair. "You're not a handful, Felicity. At least, not in a bad way. I want you to feel safe. And comfortable. I need you to know that I'm going to protect you."

"I do." She whispered, tipping her head back so she could see her face. He glanced down at her. "I just... I don't know what that was, exactly, but it wasn't because I didn't feel safe." She pressed her cheek against his chest. "I feel safe with you, Oliver."

Oliver swallowed, and Felicity found his hand where it rested on his stomach, intertwining her fingers through his. "Do you..." he hesitated, both of them looking down at their hands. "Do you regret coming with me?" He asked quietly, "Do you wish you'd stayed with Sara?"

Felicity shook her head, picking it up to look at him. "No. I know that you've been through so much, Oliver. And I didn't want you to worry that I couldn't deal with this. I can. I just...it's _a lot_."

"I know," he murmured, his eyes telling her that he understood as much as his words did. His fingers trailed down her spine and back up, making her shiver, but she pushed further into him, letting him know that it felt good. And he did it again. "This is new to you...and it's _insane_ , and...

"I had a mission, Felicity. When I decided to come back home and put on that hood. Everything was black and white. People were innocent or guilty. They deserved to be saved or they deserved an arrow. I lived like that every night in Starling. People were...threats. Targets. But when you walked into my bar..." he looked at her, his eyes burning into hers, "asking me if I felt like I was sleeping through life, you were... you were the first person that I could see as a person, Felicity. You made me smile. And I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to... to hear you talk more. And I haven't felt that way in a very long time."

Her eyebrows furrowed, leaning towards him until her face was buried in his neck, pressing her body against his side, getting as close as possible. Oliver sighed, one hand skimming over her hair while the other squeezed her fingers, still laced through his. "Felicity..." he hesitated, and she held her breath, feeling his heart beating faster, sensing the change in his tone. "I'm not good for you. I'm broken. The way that I see the world...it's not right. It's tainted. And you're perfect."

"I'm not," she breathed, shaking her head because his words sounded like he was finding a reason to not be with her. And she couldn't think about that right now because she needed him. Not just his help, but the way he made her feel. There was way too much going on to think about what was happening between them, and she definitely didn't have enough brain power to think about what would happen with them when it was all over.

"You are," he argued softly, "You're...you're _everything_ , Felicity."

She sighed, moving her nose over his chest and back up his neck. She nestled her face into the crook of it, her fingers pulling away from his hand so she could wrap it around his shoulders, keeping herself close, clinging to him. She wasn't sure what he meant by _everything_ , but it made her breathless anyway. Pulling herself closer, Felicity held onto him, silently telling him that she wasn't letting go. And he sighed, slipping his arm underneath her and running both of his hands up and down her back. 

"I have you, Felicity." He mumbled, his hands smoothing over her skin, slipping under her tank top so she could feel his warm fingers, letting them sooth her into the tiredness that had landed them in that motel in the first place. It began to pull her under again, her body becoming impossibly still. "I have you."

The words seemed to be exactly what she needed to hear, because every part of her relaxed. Listening to his soft breaths, feeling his hands stroking her back, fatigue hit her stronger than ever, and her eyes grew so heavy that keeping them open was an impossible battle.

* * *

Felicity woke up the next morning and wasn't _ready_. She groaned, stretching her legs out and yawning, too tired to open her eyes. Settling again, she listened to the never-ending rain. Half asleep, part of her knew that she was in a motel room, that she'd had a little breakdown last night and begged Oliver to stop the car.

Oliver.

Her hand began to reach out, searching across the bed until she felt a hard, warm chest beneath her palm. 

She couldn't think, unsure if she was even awake or if it was a dream. It'd be a deep sleep, and she was finding it hard to pull herself out of the grogginess.

Sighing, Felicity scooted over to him, frowning because she hadn't already been in his arms, the way she'd fallen asleep. His skin was warm and she nestled into him, hearing him let out a soft breath in response to her cold fingers. Pressing her lips to his chest, she felt herself falling back into her dream world now that she was smelling him, feeling him, and it was perfect.

Her lips explored his chest, her eyes still closed but her body reacting as if she knew every inch of him. She knew him. Her nose was greeted by the  _smell_ of him. Her fingers explored the dimpled and scarred skin over his chest. Her eyes weren't open, but it was like she was looking at him, feeling him beneath her hands. Something comforting and familiar. Right. 

As she moved her way up to his neck, she could feel the areas of his skin that protruded, and she spent some extra time kissing those spots. His breath was still deep and even, but he was releasing the sweetest, softest little sounds in reaction to her mouth on him.

When she reached his chin, she let her body take over.

Not that her head was really all that aware of her actions anyway.

She ran her hands over him, her head feeling light, still unwilling to open her eyes and just _look_ at him. She was enjoying the other sensations far too much. She could tell that he had his arms above his head, his face hidden beneath his biceps. Seeing it in her mind, she let out a soft, sleepy giggle. He was _resting_. He was comfortable enough to sleep, to get a solid few hours of _good_ sleep. And she should definitely let him sleep. But...

She swung her leg over him, straddling his waist and kissing his chin. Dream or no dream, she had touch him, feel his scruffy cheek beneath her lips. Feel his body beneath hers. She didn't even hesitate.

"Oh, Felicity," he groaned, his hands flying to her waist. She ran her lips over the stubble on his jaw, humming in reply. His hands gripped her tighter, pulling her hips closer. He whispered her name as she slowly explored his face with her lips, applying gentle, lazy kisses all over it. His nose, his forehead, his eyelids, and back down to his jaw.

Oliver pulled the blanket up and over her, keeping her warm under it before he moved his hands up her sides, pushing her tank top up as his fingers grazed her ribs. He brought them around to her back, slipping them underneath her shirt, and she shivered. His hands were warm, a wonderful solution to the cool air in the room. It felt amazing, and that was all her brain was capable of registering. Just _feeling_. She moaned, dropping her forehead to his. 

The tips of his fingers dug into her back, gripping her. "Yes," she whispered, the sound of her own voice waking her up a little more. She didn't recognize it at first, but as her mind groggily caught up to what her body was doing, she cupped Oliver's face and mumbled the word again.

"Felicity..."

She finally opened her eyes, whimpering because the first thing she saw were his eyes, staring up at her, his pupils blown wide. He was hesitating, unwilling to push her away but not daring to pull her closer either. He rubbed his nose against hers, his eyes growing darker now that she was looking at him, now that her head was catching up with her body's impulses. It wasn't a disagreement, her mind was just as happy to be on top of him as her body was. Now that he could see her eyes, see that she was aware of her surroundings, of him, he smiled. "Are you awake right now?" He teased, rubbing her back.

She was definitely awake. She was definitely on top of him. This was a thing that was happening.

He seemed relaxed, in the same lazy morning, peaceful moment that she'd been in. "This is a pretty nice way to wake up," he said playfully. It crossed her mind that he was going to make a joke of this, of what she'd done when she was half asleep, but she suddenly felt the reality of their position, very aware of how she was pressing into him...

"Oh, god," she groaned, moving the slightest bit closer so that her lips could brush against his. "Oliver," she mumbled, asking him to kiss her with just his name.

Begging him to. Telling him how much she wanted him to.

His eyes widened. And then he was suddenly kissing her.

He picked his head up to press his lips against hers, and as soon as he did, everything felt so unbelievably clear. She wasn't thinking about assassins or Deathstroke or anything bad. She couldn't think of anything besides _him_. He tasted sweet, which surprised her a little bit. And his beard was kind of scratchy, but in a nice way.

And his _lips_. How had she not noticed how gorgeous his lips were? She'd definitely thought about what they'd feel like on hers, but she hadn't given herself the proper moment to appreciate them the way they deserved.

Kissing them made up for it. They were full, and soft, and they molded to hers perfectly. She wanted to open her mouth, to invite him inside, but he kept his lips perfectly still. Controlled. His hands slid up her body until he was cupping her face, but he stopped his lips from getting carried away. She could feel the stiffness in his shoulders, the tenseness behind his lips. It still felt amazing, but she could tell that he was holding back. 

Rocking her hips, she felt him gasp, using the opportunity to run her tongue across his bottom lip. Oliver moaned, opening his mouth for her, and she took her time, exploring his mouth as much as a person could. The whimper that came out of her was unexpected, but it made him groan, coming up off the bed towards her, losing some of the control he'd been holding on to. Her hands fell to his shoulders as he sat up, and he froze for a moment, opening his eyes. 

The look he gave her was questioning. _Is this okay?_

She smiled, dipping her fingers into his hair as she closed her eyes again, just catching the way his eyes rolled back before he sighed. And then he was moving, picking her up in his lap and flipping her, dropping her gently onto the mattress and following her down to kiss her fully. She felt her heart take off, racing like it was trying to jump out of her chest as he sucked her bottom lip between his.

Felicity kissed him back, pressing her feet against the mattress and lifting her hips to meet him. He moaned, pushing down against her in the same way, his hands frantically moving to her hair, pulling her closer as she opened her mouth and he slipped his tongue inside. Her nails gripped his sides, never wanting this to end, never wanting him to stop. It'd never felt like this before. Never this good. And she knew it wasn't just about how thoroughly he kissed her. It was how thoroughly he protected her. Looked at her. Opened up to her. Breathlessly, she slid her hands down, pushing her fingers into the waist of his boxers and he groaned.

But just as quickly, he was moving back.

Rearing his head back, he pulled away, shifting to create some space between them as he panted. It didn't stop her from trying, chasing after him on instinct, wanting to taste him again as soon as she'd stopped being able to. He tilted her face up, away from her lips, making her meet his eyes. His gaze was dark, his breath coming out in shallow pants, matching hers.

Wow. That was the first kiss to end all first kisses. She needed more. "Hey," he said softly, his voice containing that edge that let her know he was stopping this.

Felicity bit her lip, glancing down at his swollen lips. "Hey," she breathed back.

He smiled gently, looking down at her mouth and she was sure that he was seeing the same thing.

Then he cleared his throat and looked away, towards the door. "We should get going," he mumbled quickly. She stared up at him, too numb from that kiss to even move. How could he possibly be thinking about leaving that bed in that moment? The idea made her chest feel tight. Her whole body felt like it was buzzing, too slow to catch up to what was happening around her. 

But Oliver was glancing at the door again, his body stiff like he wanted to get off of her. She was still clutching to him tightly, though, her fingers digging into his back.

Felicity froze for a moment, and then the heat of rejection coursed her body, a deep flush rising from her chest to her face. "Right, we should leave. Leaving, right now, is what we should do." she breathed, pulling her hands away. When he didn't move, she pressed her palms against his chest, nudging him.

He stayed still, staring down at her, his eyes widening. "Felicity, I didn't mean-" He was cut off when she shoved a little harder than she'd intended, but he moved. And she scrambled off the bed, hopping from foot to foot towards the bathroom, tugging her tank top down as she fled. She wanted to say something else, but she had no idea what _to_ say. 

Her body wasn't ready for such jerky, quick movements. Her head was still in that bed with him, sleepily kissing him like it was a dream that she didn't want to wake up from.

She tried to catch up with her protesting muscles and the headache she had as she slumped against the door.

He seemed uncomfortable, like he regretted kissing her before they'd even been done kissing. Ouch. That one hurt her self-esteem a bit. Or a lot. 

Stupid. That's how she felt. Of course he wasn't thinking about an early morning make-out session. He hadn't even wanted to stop in the first place.

She hoped that he didn't think this was her intention... Oh god, what if he thought that she asked to stop so she could lure him into bed? She didn't mean to, all she'd been thinking about last night was sleep. And food. Which she'd been so tired she actually forgot about. Her stomach growled and reminded her of that one. She'd needed to stop for her sanity's sake, but what if Oliver thought she'd planned on _that_ happening? Groaning, she let her head fall back against the door with a thump.

"Felicity?" She heard him ask.

"Uh, I'm fine!" She called, scrambling to her feet. 

Even when she woke up, she hadn't _thought_ about kissing him. She'd just known that he was there, in the bed, like every sense she had could _feel_ him next to her, and her body did what it wanted to without giving her head a chance to stop and think. Would he have stopped her sooner, if she'd been more aware of what she was doing when she'd climbed on top of him. Clearly, it had woken him up, but he'd just been looking up at her in amusement when she finally opened her eyes.

Standing up, she turned the shower on quickly before turning to look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. His beard had left little irritated patches around her mouth and cheeks. And she liked it. Oh god, that was... she couldn't believe that she'd actually kissed him. It'd just felt so good, so lazy, natural, and right. Like she didn't have a care or worry in the world because it was _him_. 

She wondered if he was out there regretting it right now. It seemed possible, after the way he'd stopped her, had to literally hold her back when she tried to kiss him again. But he _had_ kissed her back. He had been the one to flip her over and settle himself between her legs...rubbing against her center. And she'd heard him groan...in _pleasure_. There was no way she was alone in that kiss. There was no way he hadn't been enjoying it. But enjoyment was an understatement to how she felt about it. She'd felt that kiss in her core, all the way to her toes.

Everywhere. He'd been _everywhere_.

Felicity shivered as she stepped under the water, showering as fast as she could. Knowing that he wanted to get back on the road, she prepared herself to go back out there and face him. Using the time as she washed her hair, she decided to pretend that it didn't happen. Ignore it. It was her go-to plan, and she assumed that Oliver would play along. If he regretted kissing her, then he definitely wouldn't want to talk about it when they still had seven hours in a car together.

She'd been half asleep anyway, maybe if she just pretended that it was a dream, he would too.

Awkward, rejected kiss aside, she dressed quickly in Sara's yoga pants and tank top that she'd slept in, that she'd been wearing for way too long.

When she had nothing else to do in the bathroom, she inhaled quickly and swung the door open, keeping her eyes on the floor as she made her way to her coat and her shoes.

"Felicity..." He sighed as she blew past him. She glanced up at him where he sat on the bed, offering a smile, not meeting his eyes as she slipped her shoes on. He was still in his _boxers_... she couldn't _look_ at him in his boxers. The embarrassment was too strong. She could have spent the rest of the day in that bed and he probably knew it as much as she did. So much for acting cool, like it hadn't happened. Her eyes immediately flew past him, to the bed, still rumpled from their use of it. She was an awkward ball of nerves, and she cringed at her failure of pretending the kiss didn't happen. "You're leaving?"

"My clothes- Sara's clothes, are in the car, I just have to grab my bag." She pulled on the tank top and scrunched her nose, "I want to change, and I forgot to bring it in last night." She said quietly, fighting the urge to babble more. She clamped her teeth together, feeling _words_ rising in her throat. Lord knew what she'd end up saying... so she bit her tongue.

Oliver stood up from his spot on the edge of the bed, and she was forced to look at him as he came closer, his hair rumpled and adorable from sleep. Or her fingers. "I'll get it for you."

Felicity shook her head, gesturing to his lack of clothing but focusing on the buttons of her coat. "The car is just outside the door, Oliver. I think I can handle it."

She glanced up in his silence, and he was staring at her. His eyes were wide like he wanted to say something, like he felt bad about something. Guilt? Oh god, the only thing worse than regretting the kiss was him feeling _guilty_ for it. He pursed his lips, "Listen..."

"It's okay." She interrupted, closing her eyes for a moment. "You were right. There's..." she threw her hand up and around her head. "A lot...going on in here right now. And you know," she gestured between the two of them, "probably not a good time." She remembered what he'd said last night about him not being good for her, and she wondered if he'd ever think there was a good time. Feeling sad, she stared at him. He stared back.

He nodded once, his jaw clenching and his eyes trained on her face, begging her to understand. She let out a shaky breath and tried to offer a sympathetic smile.

But she was faking it. She didn't understand. Being on top of him in that bed made her feel better than she had all week. Better than she had in _years_.

"I'll be right back," she whispered with a small smile, watching his eyes waver as he exhaled and nodded again. She took the keys with her, unlocking the door and inhaling the muggy air.

The lack of sun definitely didn't help her mood. She wanted fresh air.

Popping open the trunk, she started to dig through the getaway materials Sara had. She probably had all of her cars, which was apparently four, prepared like this; flashlights, blankets, bags of clothes and non-perishables. The woman was ready to run at the drop of a hat. She couldn't blame her, she would want to be prepared for anything too, if a group called The League of Assassins had been trying to find her for years.

Felicity shook her head, knowing that Sara had thrown an extra backpack of borrowed clothes into the trunk before they left. Everything was put together and organized, which made the loose folder tucked into the side of the trunk stand out. 

Felicity pulled it out, her eyebrows furrowing as a sticky note fell off of it. She picked up the note first, not recognizing the handwriting but assuming that it must have been Sara's. It read simply; " _Just look."_

She opened it, glancing down at the report pinned inside.

Her heart dropped as she read her full name at the top, in bold letters. _Her_ name.

Flipping the page over, she was greeted with photos of herself and her parents. "Oh, no." She muttered to herself, finding it confusing but knowing that it wasn't good. Her heart felt like it was breaking and dropping into her stomach in the same moment, betrayal squeezing her lungs.

The pictures that followed were from different points of her life. A case file. An overview. Turning back to the first page, she glanced over the details. It highlighted her life, a summary of the schools she'd attended and towns she'd lived in. Her parents' work history as well as her own, and even a column for her very brief dating history. Aside from Cooper, she'd only had a couple of other relationships, but they were all there. Invasive and detailed for prying eyes. There was another page that explained her 'hacktivist' work in college, everything they'd done. All of the virtual sit ins they'd organized and nation-wide petitions they'd tried put onto the web. It was all there, not that it was much, and not that she'd had the chance to change very much.

Disgusted, she threw the trunk shut, gripping the file in one hand and the keys in the other. She marched around the car, swinging open the driver's side door and getting in as fast as she could, slamming the door and starting the car. She held the steering wheel tightly, the papers getting wrinkled where she still gripped them. 

"Felicity?" She glanced out the window and saw Oliver stepping outside. He was pulling pants on, barefoot with a towel over his shoulder as if he was about to get in the shower, probably waiting for her to come back inside before he went in. His eyes widened as they met hers. "Hey," he said, moving closer. He looked confused as she glared at him, his eyebrows furrowing. And then his gaze landed on the file in her fist, and his face dropped, his features smoothing.

So he recognized it.

Great.

"Felicity, wait." He heard him say, holding his hands up. "Let me explain." He pleaded. She just stared at him, honestly not knowing anything besides how angry she was. How deceived she felt. "Wait, please!" He called out as she looked away from him. When he started walking towards the car, she put it in drive and stepped on the gas.

Glancing back as she drove off down the foggy road, her breath caught, seeing him running back into the room.

Realizing that she had no idea where she was, she focused on the road. It hadn't mattered where they were because she knew that he was there. She trusted that he was safe. That she didn't have to question it or worry.

For the first time since she'd encountered Slade Wilson, she felt alone in this mess. And tears came instantly upon the realization. She drove through the cloudy and wet street as she blinked and tried to calm down, but it wasn't long until she couldn't control it anymore and she had to pull over, her body shaking and tears blurring her vision.

Felicity rolled the windows down first, letting in the misty air and watching the windows fog. She inhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath but it felt like there just wasn't any _air_. 

Rain was coming into the car, but she could barely feel it. What the _hell_ was she going to do?

Felicity let out a sob, slamming her palms against the wheel. Then she inhaled deeply and shook her head to clear it, opening the door to get out.

She began to pace next to the car. She'd trusted him. Every instinct in her told her that she could. Yet he hadn't done the same. There wasn't a damn thing in that file that he couldn't have asked her about. She would have told him everything. Anything. But he'd chosen to snoop into her past instead? After all of the talks they'd had about his experiences...why wouldn't he trust her to do the same? If he had just asked...

Not knowing where to go, she continued to pace, staring at the ground. What the _hell_ was she going to do?

She needed Oliver. No, she _wanted_ Oliver. There was a reason she'd wanted to stay with him instead of calling the police like a normal person might do. She trusted him. Still. She didn't want to be alone, but more accurately, she didn't want to do this without him. Was she stupid to trust him, though? The file on the passenger seat and the look of realization on his face when he saw that she'd found it made her doubt him. Half an hour ago, she would have confidently put her life in his hands. She already had been.

But she couldn't understand why he'd keep this from her. Not after the way he'd been acting, so open and trusting. Did he deserve her trust, when he so clearly didn't give her the same in return?

It hit her, as she paced the empty street, that it wasn't about what he deserved. There were people out there... who wanted her dead for some reason that she had no idea about. And he was the one she trusted to keep her safe. He was the one who could. She had to compartmentalize this.

The look on his face when he'd seen her behind the wheel flashed into her mind. He'd looked terrified. Part of her heart broke for him, knowing that he was probably worried, that he wanted to keep her safe, and she was making that impossible. Even if the file gave her every reason to doubt him, she had to believe that he wanted to protect her. Why else would he be doing all of this? Her sanity needed to believe it. She couldn't handle it if everything between them was a lie. No, this had to have another explanation. Which meant... that she'd probably scared the shit out of him by running off.

He had no right to spy on her past, as if she was a criminal or something, but it didn't feel right; the idea that Oliver would do this because he didn't trust her. If he thought she had done something wrong, or if he believed that she was lying to him, why would he want to bring her with him? Why would he want her close, sleeping in a bed with him, if he thought she was untrustworthy? Yet... the folder's contents currently spilled all over the front seat told a different story.

Confused, her legs moved faster and the more she thought about it, the louder she talked to herself and the angrier she got. 

And then a strange sense of déjà vu came over her.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her whole body froze. She suddenly didn't feel so alone on that street.

Just like she hadn't felt alone in that parking lot with Deathstroke. But this time, she couldn't see anyone. And she realized that her pacing had somehow turned into walking...and she wasn't next to the car anymore. She could still see it, but she'd somehow paced her way down the street. The car was barely visible through the fog. All she could see was a shadowed street and a foggy, creepy looking forest at her sides. Was someone in there...hiding? Slade's mask came to mind. And the cloaked faces of the League. They had moved so silently...she wouldn't even know. The thoughts running through her mind made her feet freeze, paralyzed with fear as her eyes flew around, searching, imagining those hoods creeping their way out of the trees or Slade Wilson's figure appearing on the street through the fog, those damn swords dragging on the ground. But she didn't see anything.

Felicity realized that there had been birds chirping, but they were silent now. Was that what set her off? Clued her senses into the fact that something felt wrong, that the air had changed? The only sound was the gentle rain hitting the pavement and the hum of cars from a highway, wet tires on a distant road.

It felt ominous. 

Despite the silence, trying to convince her that she truly was alone, the feeling didn't leave. She still felt like someone was watching her.

"Oliver?" she whispered, whipping her head back to look over her shoulder, her breath stuck in her throat. It felt wrong. She knew how Oliver's presence felt. And this wasn't it. "Shit," she hissed, forcing her legs to move and cursing herself for walking so far. The file seemed ridiculous now, nothing compared to this fear, in the middle of nowhere when she could barely see ten feet ahead of her in this fog. Without Oliver.

She'd felt Slade when he was behind her, as much as she could feel whoever was out there now. She didn't question if she was being paranoid. She _knew_ she wasn't alone. Someone was out there.

Luckily she had the keys gripped in her fist, so at least she had some kind of weapon. And she started to run, feeling the misty rain sting her face. When she got to the car, she glanced around again, throwing herself behind the wheel without hesitating since she hadn't bothered to shut the door. 

Just as she was starting the car, Felicity heard a loud, echoing shot.

But she only had enough time to glance up before she felt an intense pain in her shoulder.

She screamed, her vision immediately blackening as she reached for her shoulder where the pain was ricocheting through her body. She felt like she couldn't breathe, especially when a warm liquid seeped between her fingers. Everything slowed down, like she stopped being there, went somewhere outside of her body as her ears began to ring and her head became weightless.

Pulling her hand back, Felicity stared down at the red substance dripping between her fingers. The pain in her shoulder told her that it was blood. Her blood.

And then suddenly she couldn't think of anything else besides the pain.

Crying out, Felicity rocked to the side to duck behind the seat, half of her mind present enough to fear that more bullets could come, but the other part of her mind was unable to stop screaming in pain. She might not have been visible to whoever was behind the car, but they could hear her. Not that it was a secret that she was there, they'd obviously been waiting for her to get back in the car. The movement as she slid down the seat only made the pain worse. 

Her ears were still ringing from the deafening sound of the gunshot. She couldn't breathe, her mind trying to wrap itself around the fact that she'd been shot. That there was probably a bullet in her shoulder right now. The thought made her positive that she could feel it under her skin, and all she could think about was how badly it hurt.

"Okay, okay," A voice said from beside her, "Sh, sh, sh." It soothed, "It's just a flesh wound. By the looks of it, you've never been shot before. The first one always hurts the worst."

Felicity groaned in pain in the same moment that she gasped in fear, a strangled noise escaping her lips. Her throat burned from the strain and the cold air.

The man leaned down to look into the car at her, a gun hanging from his hand. "You're Felicity Smoak." He smiled.

She felt adrenaline rush through her as she tried to focus on the man who'd just shot her. "You're gonna regret doing that," Felicity hissed through her teeth. She kept her jaw firmly clenched, knowing that if she opened it, she'd be yelling again. Her shoulder started to feel numb, and she had no idea if it was her body's way of coping with the pain, if he'd hit something important, or if she was losing too much blood. 

Despite the file that sat beside her, telling her that maybe she shouldn't have trusted Oliver so quickly, she knew with perfect clarity that he was close. That he'd come after her. It was a strange sensation, staring at a man who clearly meant her harm, who had gotten closer to delivering it than the previous threats had...but she knew that Oliver was coming, if he wasn't already here, somewhere hiding in the hazy forest waiting for his moment. She could _feel_ him.

The man whistled, "Making threats while you bleed out in your own car! Damn!"

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Deadshot."

"Deadshot...Deathstroke. Who comes up with these pompous names? Do you make them up yourselves?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

"Oh no, pumpkin." He said, smirking as if he was entertained with the conversation. "Deathstroke was a failure. I have you just where I want you."

Felicity's face dropped, realizing what he was saying. He knew Slade. Or, he did. She opened her mouth to respond, but then she froze.

An arrow appeared behind him, just past his head. Felicity forced herself not to react, to keep her face clear.

Oliver came into view then, coming closer to the man. She could see him as he inched closer, over his shoulder. It was hard to look away, but she forced herself to, so she didn't clue Deadshot in. It was bizarre, seeing an arrow poised in Oliver's hands. His face wasn't covered in a hood, his gaze focused on the back of the man's head. His lips were a hard line, his eyes just as cold and focused. It was the same face that she'd been kissing just minutes ago, but it looked so different. He was prepared for a fight, even if Deadshot hadn't noticed him yet, since the man still had a gun in his hands.

Her heart swooped, realizing that guns worked much faster than arrows, and Oliver could get hurt... or killed... if Deadshot lived up to his name...

Felicity forced her eyes to meet the man's in front of her, refusing to let him see her react at all. Oliver hadn't made a single noise, and she knew that Deadshot had no idea he was there. He was still leering down at her. "You ready, sweetheart?" He asked. Felicity's eyes flashed to Oliver for a brief moment, and then glared up at the man leaning into the car towards her. The look on Oliver's face was murderous, and she could see the inner turmoil.

He wanted to let the arrow go. He wanted to kill him.

But he silently lowered his bow, rearing it back in his hand. He let out a breath of air just before he laid it into the man's back. Deadshot's back stiffened when he heard Oliver, just before his eyes widened as the arrow pierced his back. Oliver disarmed him in the same movement, gracefully managing to do both in the blink of an eye. Felicity was sure that if she hadn't been staring at him, she would have missed the whole thing. "What the hell!?" Deadshot wailed, spinning around.

"How did you know Slade Wilson?" Oliver asked calmly.

The man swung, and Oliver ducked, easily pinning his arm behind his back and slamming his face against the car. Oliver broke off the back of the arrow that was sticking out of Deadshot's back, jamming the wood into his other shoulder, right where Felicity's own body was going numb. It was satisfying, seeing the man cry out in pain, knowing he was feeling the same pain she was. "By the looks of it, you've never been stabbed with an arrow before." She mumbled.

Oliver looked down at her, his eyes widening as he kept the man constrained. She could see the surprise on his face; _did you just taunt the asshole who shot you?_

Oh, so he definitely hadn't heard the things she'd been yelling to Slade Wilson as he chased her through the parking garage then...

Oliver didn't speak. He didn't ask if she was okay. The bloody seat and her white face probably told him enough. Instead, his eyes darkened, and he swung the man around, shoving him to the ground on his back, which must have pushed the arrows further into his shoulders because he groaned in pain. Felicity winced.

"Floyd Lawton." Oliver said lowly, staring down at him, that raspy, intimidating tone to it that she'd recognized when he was talking to Slade. His Hood voice.

The man's eyes widened, "You know me?" And then he smirked, "Are you FBI? CIA? National Security?" Felicity cringed, how many departments of the government were after this man? And how many of them had he _evaded_?

"A.R.G.U.S." Oliver snapped.

Deadshot's face dropped as he held his hands up, looking up at Oliver's wide frame above him, "Shit." Felicity froze, looking up at Oliver and knowing that the name he'd said back at Sara's must be more meaningful than she'd realized, if a man like this was afraid of him simply because he'd said the word. "A.R.G.U.S. huh? Those guys have been trying to nail me for years."

"I know." Oliver growled, "How did you know Slade?" Oliver asked, putting his foot on Floyd Lawton's neck.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Slade was hired by the same people as me. If you're A.R.G.U.S. and you know me, then you know what I do. My targets are paychecks, nothing personal." He pointed to Felicity, giving her a wink.

Oliver grabbed him by the collar, rearing him up until his face was inches from his. "Do you think I won't kill you, Lawton? Have I mislead you about that?"

"Jeez," Lawton groaned. Oliver dropped him back down. "Girl's a touchy subject huh?" Oliver just growled, putting his foot back to his neck. "Fine." He said, "Fine, she's the target. Slade failed. Now it's my turn. You kill me, and it'll just be another one behind me."

"How did _you_ wind up with The League?"

Lawton raised his eyebrows, "I don't play baseball, pal."

Oliver put more pressure on his neck. "The League of Assassins."

Deadshot pursed his lips in pain, "I don't know squat about any leagues of assassins."

"I know you, Lawton. You've been underground for years. Why now? Why _her_?"

The man shook his head, and Oliver's foot pressed harder into his neck. "I don't know! I don't ask questions, I just shoot."

"You missed." Oliver growled, leaning above him. And Felicity realized that Oliver very well might kill him. The possibility was still there, in his eyes.

Lawton didn't seem to have the same thought. Or he didn't care. He smiled up at Oliver. "I. Don't. Miss." He said slowly. Oliver didn't respond, but he pressed his heel onto his collar bone, raising an eyebrow. She understood the threat; _tell me what I want to know or I'll break your bones with my foot._

"Alright, alright," Lawton sighed, also understanding what Oliver _wasn't_ saying. "They didn't tell me she had a god damn body guard from A.R.G.U.S.!" He yelled. "That would have been useful information." Oliver put more pressure on his throat, and Deadshot glared up at him. "The assignment wasn't to _kill_ Ms. Smoak. It's to take her. And like I said, if I don't, someone else will be coming in my place."

"Take her where?" Oliver growled back.

"No idea. I was going to be given that information once I could prove that I had her. All I know is they want her. Alive."

"Who hired you?" Felicity whispered, gripping her shoulder, trying to put pressure on it. The pain was dull, and she was pretty sure she was in shock. As scary as the man in front of them seemed to be, the fact that he'd just shot her, that there was a bullet in there somewhere, that he'd planned on kidnapping her, didn't freak her out. Oliver's presence was something mystical over her, apparently. It helped that he had Deadshot powerless and on the ground, and she didn't feel afraid anymore.

Oliver glanced at her, his eyebrows furrowing, as if he was conflicted about if these answers were more important than her bleeding out in the car. But it felt like the bleeding had slowed down, and her whole arm was numb at this point. They needed to know where these crazy, trained killers were coming from. She nodded at him once. Her wound could wait. Besides, it was probably going to be a pretty badass scar.

"I don't know a name," Lawton sighed, "just an alias. H.I.V.E."


	7. What Do You Go Home To?

"No, mom, I swear I'm fine." Felicity had to bite her tongue from groaning as she tried to adjust her phone between her shoulder and ear and make tea at the same time. 

"Well honey, I just wish you would call me more. I feel like I don't know anything going on in your life."

_Oh, you have no idea._  They'd arrived in Coast City three days ago, in an extremely chaotic night that Felicity could barely remember. She'd lost a lot of blood from Deadshot's bullet, and her adrenaline had been so high that she struggled to get anything more than bits and pieces of what was happening.

She could remember arriving in Coast City with Floyd Lawton passed out in the backseat. Oliver had brought her to his friends' house where she'd been given stitches, oxycodone, and a sling for her arm. And Oliver hadn't left her side. Not even once.

He promised her that the married couple whose house he took her to, John and Lyla, would take good care of her. That she could trust them. Oliver stayed with her while John gave her stitches and his wife took the car to bring Deadshot somewhere secure.

After the dust settled, Oliver brought her to  _his_  home. She hadn't realized he had a house of his own here, but she was surprised to find that it was much more comfortable and lived in than his apartment above Poison. He had plants in the windows and books everywhere, as well as little touches of himself all around the house. A blanket that looked handmade. Pictures on the walls and various surfaces. It was just more full than his apartment in Starling. It looked like a home. Lived in.

Shaking her head as she looked around the kitchen again, still learning where everything was in the place, she answered her mom, "I know. I'm sorry, I promise I'll call you more."

She bit her lip, getting annoyed with trying to juggle the phone, the mug, and the hot kettle. Putting her phone on speaker, she set it on the counter, turning for the cabinets to find some sugar and honey.

Another thing she'd learned about Oliver; he was an incredible cook, and he'd stocked his kitchen with just about everything they could possibly need on their first day in Coast City. It was a strange comparison to the man she'd been seen before, that lived in an empty and impersonal apartment and didn't seem to indulge in anything luxurious. The one who always had his walls up.

His house here proved her wrong. The plants he kept around served different cooking and health purposes, and he seemed to enjoy taking care of them. He also owned a surprising amount of candles and told her that they helped him to relax. He had a lot of books. And he liked tea at night. He also had a large backyard that he liked spending time in, whether it was sitting out there in the evening or working out in the morning, she was starting to catch on to the fact that if she couldn't find him in the house, all she had to do was look out the window and he'd be back there.

"So," he mother's voice filled the kitchen as Felicity fought to open the honey. "How's Starling these days?"

Glancing down at her phone, she answered slowly, "Uh, I'm actually in Coast City right now. I needed some time away from the city. How are you?" She hesitated, "Are you...is everything okay with you?"

"Oh, sure, honey." Donna said, and Felicity could picture her waving it off with her hand. "I'm great. What do you mean you're in Coast City? Is Iris with you? Oh! Are you looking at wedding venues?"

"No, I'm not with Iris," she said. Iris and Barry already had a venue. The wedding was in three weeks. Felicity frowned down at her cup, would it even be safe for her to go to the wedding? Her first thought was screw it, she wasn't going to miss that day for the world. But then she imagined those masked men crashing the wedding...

"You're traveling alone?" Her mother's voice broke through her thoughts for the millionth time in the past half hour they'd been talking, "Felicity, have you ever seen a horror movie? Never travel alone."

Felicity sighed as she stirred her tea, seeing the irony in her mother's concern. "Why would you assume that if Iris isn't here, I'm alone?"

"Well, who else would you be with?"

She bit back her irritation, "Mom, I have other friends," she snapped, even though Iris and Barry kind of were her only friends. Unless she could count Oliver as a friend now. Maybe Sara. Sometimes her mother still spoke to her as if she was the lonely thirteen year old who had to hang out with her mom on the weekends. It drove her crazy.

"Enlighten me, hon. Who are you with?"

Felicity hesitated, realizing what she'd walked herself into. She should have just said she was alone. "Uh...his name's...Tommy."

"A man!?" Her mom yelled. "Oh, Felicity! How is that not the first thing you told me!? You're traveling to a romantic beach town with a man? Who is he? Tell me everything!"

"Mom. Mom, stop. Stop!" She argued through her mom's excited rambling. 

"I'm so happy for you, baby, you finally have a boyfriend!"

"He's not my boyfriend!" She said, leaning against the counter and yelling into the phone. "He's...complicated."

"What's so complicated?" Donna asked. "Do you like him?"

"Yes," Felicity answered instantly, sighing because oh god, yes, she liked him. So much. "He just...he has a lot going on in his life right now. And we're trying to take it slow." She said, nodding to herself, pleased with her half-truth of an answer.

"Well, does he like you? If you went to Coast City together he must, Felicity." Felicity cringed, knowing that this trip wasn't some romantic getaway. The bullet he'd had to pull out of her shoulder was evidence of that. "So...if he's not your boyfriend yet, has he at least told you how he feels about you?"

Felicity closed her eyes, "Not really. We're just taking it slow, mom. Look," she said, not wanting to lie to her mother any more than she had to, "I have to get going. I'll call you soon though. And please, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me. Please." She knew that Sara and her men were keeping an eye on her mother, and on Iris and Barry, but she was still worried.

"All right, I will. I love you. And have fun with that man! And send me pictures if you can!"

She picked up the phone, rolling her eyes. "I love you. Bye, mom."

Hanging up, Felicity shoved her phone into her pocket before heading into the backyard.

Oliver was at a meeting with some A.R.G.U.S agents. He'd had a lot of those since they got here. But part of her didn't mind. He promised that he'd show her around soon, and now that her shoulder was feeling better, she wanted to get out of the house.

She hadn't had a problem staying there after what happened with Floyd Lawton. She felt safe in his house. It was protected with locks on every door and window as well as three different alarm systems that were linked right to A.R.G.U.S headquarters, which Oliver said was only five minutes away. Not to mention the weapons Oliver had around the house that he'd shown her all of the hiding spots for. 

He only lived a street over from John and Lyla, and he'd told her that since A.R.G.U.S had a facility here, there were hundreds of agents living in Coast City...most of which had taken up residence in this neighborhood.

She understood why he wanted to bring her here. The house was protected like a safe house and rigged for almost any threat, the town was crawling with his most trusted friends, and a government base of operations was only a few minutes away. It was definitely starting to feel like the safest place to be.

Not to mention it was beautiful. Starling was her home, but this was becoming her happy place, and she'd only seen his neighborhood so far. Despite everything she knew about the house, including the guns he had hidden in the floorboards and the knives stashed inside false walls, it felt like an oasis. She could hear the ocean as soon as she opened a window or sat outside. The sun was shining every day, and it had the most gorgeous views from his porch, his backyard, and any window she looked out of.

Hearing Oliver come in, Felicity turned in her chair, watching as he took his shoes off. He glanced around the house before noticing the open sliding door, and then his eyes landed on her. "Hi," he smiled, his shoulders relaxing as he walked to the back door.

She really liked seeing that, probably too much, but she couldn't stop the tiny voices in her head. Was he relieved to see her because he liked her, or was he just comforted to know that no assassins had kidnapped her in his absence?

"Hey. How was your meeting?"

"It was good. Lyla says that they've been tracking some H.I.V.E freelancers for a few years now. They don't know very much about the organization, but I guess they seek out people with unique skills, like Deadshot. Assassins for hire."

She nodded slowly as Oliver leaned against the door frame, looking out at the sunset. She watched him, "Lawton did say that more would come."

His eyes glanced down at her, "you're safe here, Felicity." As soon as she'd regained consciousness, she'd told him that she didn't want to know a damn thing about Floyd Lawton. She'd needed time to forget, to scrub her mind of the images of his attack. But she'd had three days of perfect peace, and it was more than enough. She was itching to help now.

Felicity could see that he meant what he said. That he believed it. This was his home turf, and he seemed much more confident that he could keep her safe since they got here. John and Lyla assured him, too, and Felicity could see that he had complete trust it them. It was different than the way he'd relied on Sara. Oliver didn't even have to ask John and Lyla, he didn't hesitate when it came to them. The way he talked about both of them was incredibly respectful, like they were mentors to him.

When they'd first arrived, he'd brought her straight to the couple's house and carried her inside, letting them help without any kind of doubt. "So, what happens now?"

Oliver sighed, coming over to her chair. Instead of taking the seat beside her, he picked up her legs so he could sit on the end of her chair, settling her feet onto his lap. She smiled at how naturally he did those things. "We're going to try to get information out of Lawton."

She nodded, "Oliver, I want to help. This is only happening because of me..."

He shook his head, "No, Felicity. The League of Assassins, H.I.V.E, these are organizations that would exist even if you weren't involved. And they should be stopped. I just...I'd like to stop them sooner rather than later, if it means keeping you safe."

"What can I do?"

He glanced up at her, rubbing his thumb over her leg. "How do you feel?"

She shrugged, "I feel fine. Great. Ready to do something. I appreciate how safe this house feels, but I'm kind of ready to get out of it," she said, smiling gently at him and trying to gauge his reaction.

He'd been more than happy to keep her in the house. It settled his fears almost as much as it did hers. But he just smirked at her, "getting a little stir crazy?"

Felicity nodded, looking out at the palm trees over the fence of his backyard. "Am I completely insane to say that? Shouldn't I  _want_  to be hiding in here from all of these threats coming for me? After Deadshot...but I'm...kind of bored." She scrunched her nose.

Oliver breathed out a laugh, "Well, I can't blame you, Felicity. This place is very different than Starling." He mumbled, following her gaze. "I called it home for a long time...and I would really like to show you some of it, if you want."

He looked gorgeous anywhere, but he looked especially gorgeous here. "Yeah?" She asked with a smile. He smiled back, nodding. He seemed more relaxed here somehow, which made her  _feel_ more relaxed. She knew that it was probably the safest place she could be, and it really helped that Oliver seemed to believe that, too. "It's beautiful," she answered, "you love it here, don't you?"

He sighed, "I came here five years ago. And it was the first place that I felt safe."

"You never told me how you...got away. Off the island."

"John and Lyla found me, actually. And Sara. A.R.G.U.S had come to Lian Yu to create a prison, believe it or not. They were making an underground containment facility for some of the most dangerous threats to the United States. They needed a place that was remote, out of the country, and hard to find that could hold people like that. And they happened to choose Lian Yu. John and Lyla found us, or it was more like Sara and I found them, but Lyla offered to bring us back."

"And then you both came here?"

He nodded, "Sara almost didn't take the deal," he explained, "she was trying to stay hidden, and Lian Yu was safe in that sense. But Lyla also offered us jobs. Security. So we joined A.R.G.U.S and found ourselves in Coast City."

"So you and Sara...you lived here," she said, pointing to the ground and raising her eyebrows, "together?"

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. "She lived next door. After spending so much time together in close quarters on the island, we wanted our own space. And A.R.G.U.S was giving us houses. We were pretty pleased with the deal. But we did still want to be close. I grew to trust John and Lyla, but Sara took a little longer to let them in, so we relied on each other a lot when we first got here."

Felicity nodded seriously, her heart starting to pick up speed while her stomach twisted into knots. They were heading towards the dreaded Sara conversation, the one that she'd been afraid to ask about. Their relationship, their history. "Oliver..."

His hand tightened on her leg when he noticed the tone in her voice. "I know that it's complicated," he said quietly, "but I need you to believe that I don't have feelings for Sara anymore. Maybe I should have said that sooner, but I wasn't sure you wanted to hear about it."

"I do..." she trailed off, not wanting to discourage him from sharing, but also not sure if she wanted to listen  _right now_.

"I fell for Sara when we were on the island," he admitted, "because I needed to. We both needed it. But coming back changed things. We continued on for a long time as if we were still on the island...I think we both just felt like we owed something to each other. We'd saved each other's lives more than once, in different ways, too...and I guess after everything on the island, we thought we  _had_  to be together."

Her eyebrows furrowed, trying to wrap her head around a relationship like that. "Okay." She said, glancing down at her hands. 

"For six years, I didn't trust anyone but her, and maybe we both just thought that we had to keep living like that. But we never talked-I never even thought about a future with her. Never made plans. It was like we both knew that it wasn't in the cards for us. That there would always be an end to it. She came back to Starling with me because she didn't want me to go alone, but we stopped...seeing each other about a year ago."

"Why does she live in your family's house?"

He shrugged, "because I didn't want it. A.R.G.U.S. bought it when they found me, thinking that they could station me in Starling and use it as incentive to join. But I didn't want to be there. Lyla decided to keep it anyway, so when I finally decided to move back to Starling, and Sara said she was coming, it just seemed like the most logical thing to do. No reason to waste a mansion."

"So you're not...in love with her-Sara-or anything?"

Oliver leaned forward, tilting her chin up. His eyes shifted between hers, narrowing as he tried to read her, and he finally shook his head. "I guess I haven't been doing the best job at making my feelings clear, Felicity. But I think about plans and a future when I look at you." It wasn't a straightforward 'I like  _you_ ,' but it was close enough to make her heart stutter, and she held her breath. His blunt honesty was amazing, but it was also intense.

He watched her for a moment, his eyes darting down to her lips as he gauged her reaction. "Does that scare you?" He whispered.

She lifted her good shoulder, shuddering when his hand trailed from her chin to her jaw, his eyes analyzing her face. "Not really. We just haven't talked about any of this."

"Us, you mean." He said carefully. 

She sighed, "Yes." Or anything, really. They'd been focused on her healing, on feeling safe, keeping her family safe, and on coming up with a plan. He'd been busy working with John and Lyla, trying to figure out more about H.I.V.E and what their goal was.

"Sara told me that she'd asked Lyla to send her information on you," he said carefully, making her heart clench. He was jumping into the most avoided topic between them for the past few days. The file. "And she said that she left it in the trunk for me. I never looked at it, Felicity. I was going to tell you that it was there, I promise."

"Why didn't you?"

"I was nervous," he said with a sigh, "I didn't want you to think that I didn't trust you. You also had so many other things going on. You were miserable, and scared, and I was more focused on making sure you were safe. I didn't want it to freak you out, you already had enough to worry about. I thought that it could wait. I was just going to give it to you, but I thought that I should wait until we got here."

"I wouldn't have freaked out, Oliver...if you had told me instead..."

"Instead of you finding it yourself," he nodded slowly, looking down at his hands, "I know. And I'm sorry. Trust me...I've been thinking for the past three days, how differently things would have gone down with Deadshot if I had just told you. You never would have taken off...he never would have gotten you alone..." He met her eyes, and she was surprised by the amount of guilt and pain she could read in them. He'd apparently been hiding that emotion from her over the past few days.

Felicity reached up to touch his cheek, and his eyes slipped shut. "Can you believe any of that?" He asked, his voice pleading.

"Look at me," she mumbled back. His eyes slowly opened, and she nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I think I do."

He smiled at her, "There's nothing in that file that could ever make me feel differently about you."

"What Floyd Lawton did isn't your fault, Oliver." she said.

He let out a breath as he understood the expression on her face. He was forgiven. He already had been. He had saved her life, after all. But she could also see that he didn't quite agree. He still blamed himself for it, but she blamed herself, too. She'd known that people were trying to kill her, and driving off alone had proven to be a very foolish idea.

Oliver took her hand, pulling it away from his face so he could hold it. Then he changed the subject, and she sighed, feeling relieved to finally have that off their chests. "Did you get to talk to your mom?"

"Yes," she said with a groan. "It was as exhausting as I thought it would be."

"Too exhausting to go on a date?"

Felicity's eyes widened, and then she hesitated, staring at him, "A date?"

Oliver nodded calmly, "I know this place. It's right on the beach. And it's gorgeous."

"You want to take me on a date? Like tonight? With all of this going on?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up. And then she cringed, hoping she wasn't talking him out of it.

He smiled patiently at her, "Yes. I would. Tonight. There's one other thing that we haven't had a chance to talk about, though."

"What's that?"

"Our kiss."

"Oh." She said, glancing away quickly, just the mention of it brought back the embarrassment she'd felt in that motel room. The way she'd thrown herself at him, half asleep and needy. He might've kissed her back, but he'd also stopped her. And she'd been pretty certain at the time that he regretted it. Now she was a little more convinced that he didn't, but she still wasn't quite sure what to think.

For the past three nights, he'd slept in his bed with her. He'd been attentive and kind to her. He wasn't shy about touching her, comforting her, giving her everything she needed. But he hadn't tried to kiss her again. And she sure as hell wasn't about to try it again.

Oliver slid closer to her until he could reach her waist, and then he pulled her into his lap. "Felicity, we're not in a sketchy motel anymore where assassins could come out of nowhere. You're safe here. We have  _time_." He explained quietly, his voice captivating her as much his eyes were. She understood what he was saying. He didn't want to get carried away in the motel because they'd still been in danger. That motel room wasn't secure and it had only been a matter of time before someone caught up to them, as Lawton had proved. They didn't have time to get lost in each other like that. But now...

She nodded slowly, leaning closer to him, keeping her injured arm cradled against her chest. "So, if I were to kiss you now..." she said.

He raised an eyebrow, "If you were to kiss me now..." He trailed off, rubbing his nose against hers. Oliver tilted his lips towards hers, kissing her slowly, gently. She cupped his face with her one good hand, feeling the same heat rising to her neck that she'd felt in the motel room. But he didn't move and neither did she.

Her arm in a sling between them provided their needed reminder that taking the other's clothes off was out of the question, and he slowly pulled back.

Felicity fidgeted in his lap, her eyes lulling open at the same time as his. "You okay?" he asked lowly, his voice thick. His lips had barely touched hers. It wasn't a passionless kiss by any means, but it was far from the heated make-out session they'd had in the motel bed. 

It was sweet, caring...in a way she'd never really felt before.

"Yeah," Felicity breathed against his mouth, "just hating getting shot now more than ever." She leaned back slightly, but Oliver wasn't quite ready to stop yet, and his lips chased after hers, kissing her one more time.

This time he opened his mouth slightly, gently running his tongue across the seam of her lips before pulling away. He groaned, "You taste like honey."

Felicity laughed, remembering the honey she'd put in her tea. She kissed the corner of his mouth, and then his cheek, her hand brushing his hair away from his face. She continued to run her fingers through his hair as he held her, loving when she felt some tension leaving his body. He shivered under her touch, and she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling herself against him and ignoring the pain in her shoulder as she squished her injured limb between their bodies.

Oliver tightened his grip around her waist, pressing his face into her neck, holding her tightly as he let out a breath. "Felicity..." he breathed her name. It was a breath of relief, sounding a lot like clarity in her mind, as if something finally made sense for him. She gripped him tighter, hoping he could feel how much she cared about him. It had taken her by surprise, but it was there. She was falling in love with him.

She might already be there.

"Oh, Felicity..." he whispered again, swaying her back and forth gently. 

She whimpered, knowing that if they didn't move soon, she might lose her common sense and end up pulling the stupid sling off and not caring if those damn stitches popped out. He sighed, his whole body relaxing into her and it felt  _amazing_. "Dinner," she yelped, pulling back. "Dinner?"

He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose and keeping his grip on her. "Dinner." He agreed, and then he stood up, holding her waist and taking her with him. He moved effortlessly, picking her up and setting her on her feet, giving her one more quick kiss. 

"Should I change?" She asked, having no idea what kind of restaurant this was.

He glanced down at her low cut shirt and jeans, shaking his head as his eyes darkened, "No," he said simply.

Felicity swallowed, stepping back from him and fixing her hair, adjusting the ponytail that had slipped out of it's tight hold. He watched her do it, his eyes on her hands as she tried to straighten the hair tie.

"Let me do it," he offered, moving behind her and gently pulling her blonde curls from their hold. 

She laughed breathlessly, surprised. "You know how to tie a girl's hair up?" She asked.

"I've had some practice." He said, carefully pulling her hair back. He leaned forward to press a kiss against her neck once he'd gathered it all up. "John and Lyla have a daughter. I used to spend a lot of afternoons playing hairdresser."

Felicity laughed, feeling him twist the elastic into her hair before turning to look at him. She raised her eyebrows, "You?"

He smirked, nodding his head. And then he bent down to kiss her, keeping his lips on hers for a long moment, his hands on either side of her face. "I could really get used to kissing you," he mumbled as he rocked backwards, smiling down at her.

The man in front of her was so different than the one she'd been spending her time with. He was easygoing, relaxed, and  _flirty_. Their talk seemed to calm something in him, and she was surprised at how much he was smiling. She bit her lip, grinning back up at him, "Um, so you think going to this place is okay? No assassins jumping out of the ocean or anything?"

He shook his head, "It's a favorite for a lot of the A.R.G.U.S agents. Kind of their usual hangout. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are there. You'll be safe."

She nodded, "So, they know what's going on? Us-I mean...about me?"

"Yes," Oliver said simply. Offering his hand, he gestured to the gate across the yard, "want to walk?"

Felicity smiled widely at him. As much as everything from Slade to the League of Assassins, to Deadshot had terrified her, she still felt incredible safe with Oliver next to her. And that feeling was only heightened with how comfortable  _he_  was. 

Taking his hand, she waited while Oliver closed and locked the back door, setting the alarms, and then they left, heading down the street holding hands as if it was normal...as if they lived in this coastal town and did this every night. She fought a grin. Her life might be falling apart, but it was so easy to pretend that it wasn't, especially when he spontaneously lifted her hand to his mouth. He kissed her fingers as they walked, glancing down at her and smiling again.

The restaurant was a fifteen minute walk, and Oliver pointed out different agent's houses as they left the neighborhood, cluing her in on exactly how many of them lived right within yelling distance. She remembered the vacant, foggy road that Lawton had found her on, how she'd screamed at the top of her lungs in pain when he shot her, feeling like no one could hear her.  _It's different here,_  she reminded herself.

Oliver pointed out other places he liked; stores, restaurants, the direction of A.R.G.U.S headquarters, his favorite coffee shop that he agreed to take her to in the morning. They stopped on the pier, just outside the restaurant, and watched the sun set over the water. The orange sky was unlike anything she'd ever seen, even more gorgeous here than it was from his backyard. "I see why you love it here so much," she said quietly, unable to take her eyes off of the view, the colors.

He hummed from behind her, leaning down to kiss her cheek, "hands down the best sunset I've ever experienced, and I grew up on an island."

She chuckled before snapping her lips shut. "Sorry," she said, "wait, was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?"

Oliver let out a huff of air, "Hey," he warned teasingly, "I'm not always brooding."

Felicity tipped her head back to look up at him, "Apparently not. I guess it's kind of hard to brood in a place like this."

He shook his head, still smiling. "Come on, let's go inside." He took he hand and guided her into the restaurant, which was just as quaint and cozy as the rest of this place. They sat down at a booth by the window, and Felicity happily shifted her attention between the menu, the waves, and Oliver. The waitress was an older woman that recognized Oliver, giving a heartwarming 'welcome back' hug that made Felicity fall just a little bit harder for him. "I told you," he said shyly as she walked away, "A.R.G.U.S favorite."

She smiled, watching him play with the salt shaker. Felicity put her elbows on the table and leaned across it. "I thought you said that there would be agents in here."

Oliver copied her, leaning over to meet her, whispering conspiratorially just like she was as he answered, "who says there aren't?"

She narrowed her eyes, "No one in here has even acknowledged you."

"They're being polite for your sake." He said, grinning at her, "they don't want to scare you off."

Felicity glanced around the room; a couple sharing a milkshake, a man reading a paper, a few friends drinking coffee at the counter, and two families. None of them looked like threatening government officials. She looked back at Oliver, "you're messing with me."

He raised an eyebrow, "Only a little. There are agents in here, but they're just giving us our privacy." He said with a shrug.

She opened her mouth to answer as he leaned back in the booth, but one of the girls from the group of friends hopped off her counter stool and started walking towards them. She was smiling, so Felicity smiled back, glancing at Oliver.

His face was smooth, closer to the calculated protector he'd been in Starling, not giving a thing away. "Hi," the girl said, holding her hand out to Felicity with a wide smile as she gave Oliver similarly strange looks to the ones Felicity was throwing him. "I'm Helena. You must be Felicity."

"Uh, yes, hi!" Felicity shook her hand, momentarily stunned by how gorgeous she was. "It's nice to meet you." She raised an eyebrow at Oliver, who smiled at the girl tightly.

"Helena," he said simply, nodding his head.

"Oliver. Glad to have you home. I heard you've been back for three days, though," the smile fell from her face, "I was surprised you haven't called me by now." And she turned around, walking straight of the restaurant.

Felicity stared at her until she was gone, and then at Oliver. "What...just happened?"

Oliver glanced out the window, "I...It doesn't matter."

She raised her eyebrows, "Did you date her?"

"No," he answered quickly. "I mean, not exactly."

Felicity nodded, "You slept with her?"

He was squirming. "Felicity..." he said, glancing back at her and cocking his head to the side.

"Right. Not my business."

"No, that's not what I mean. I just...we used to hook up, yes. It's not exactly something I'm proud of."

"Why not?" She asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise, "She's...very pretty."

He huffed, "it was a long time ago, for a few months a couple of years ago."

"I thought you've been with Sara since you were like...seventeen."

"Not...not always. We saw other people, too...when we came here."

Felicity quirked an eyebrow, "Do you have any exes who aren't sexy assassins?" She deadpanned, shifting in her seat. Oliver pinched his lips together, clearly not wanting to answer that. "Oh my god," she said, her eyes widening. "You don't. You met Sara on the island when you were just a kid...and then you came and lived here with all of these secret agent women...everyone you've dated has been a sexy assassin, haven't they?"

He groaned, "Why do you want to talk about this? Can't we talk about your exes?"

Felicity forced a laugh. Sure, knowing that his type seemed to be gorgeous, strong, deadly women was kind of intimidating...but it wasn't like she could get mad about it. He hadn't even known her. So she had to laugh. He was clearly uncomfortable enough. "My ex-boyfriends were horrible knock offs of my father and I'm sure there are plenty of therapists who would have a field day with my psyche as a teenager and as a college student." She got quiet as their food was brought to them, but when the waitress walked away, he stared at her intently, asking her to finish. "They were...not the nicest boys. Never anything to brag about," she said gently, clearing her throat.

His eyes darkened slightly, but he looked down at his plate, trying to shield it from her. "My most serious boyfriend was in college," she said, "his name was Cooper. We were both involved in a 'hacktivist' group at MIT. It's in that file Sara gave you," she said, glancing at him. His eyes were open and innocent as he stared back at her, not giving any indication that he knew about this. "We created viruses that let us get into some pretty important systems on campus. It was mostly for fun, to show that we could do it. But we also created global petitions and virtual sit-ins. We were trying to do some good for the world. Or, at least I was...

"Cooper used my virus to hack into the country's national security system," she hesitated when Oliver raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his seat as he listened. "He almost wiped out student loans for the entire country. The FBI arrested him the next day."

"He's in prison?" Oliver asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"He was," Felicity sighed, "He killed himself a few months after his arrest."

Oliver reached across the table to squeeze her hand, "I'm sorry, Felicity..."

She offered a small smile, "It's okay. It was five years ago...but I haven't really dated anyone since him. I mean, I've  _dated_ ," she stammered, feeling a blush climbing to her cheeks. "I've just kind of been..."

"Sleeping through life?" He finished in a whisper, repeating her words from the night they'd met. She nodded, blinking back tears at the unexpected emotion filling her. Not only did he remember that, but he was easily able to recall the words she'd used and connect them to Cooper's death and what she'd become because of it. Like he understood her. 

Oliver's gaze was comforting as he watched her over the table, his eyes soft with a new admiration, making her wonder what he was thinking. Before she could ask, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, and he glanced at her apologetically, pulling it out. Frowning at the screen, he answered it.

"John, is everything okay?" A pause. "I'm having dinner with Felicity." He glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow as he listened to his friend on the other end of the phone. Then he said to her, "The Diggles would like to know if we want to stop by their house when we get back."

Felicity nodded, "Okay."

"Sure," Oliver responded to John. "Yeah, seven thirty sounds good."

Felicity glanced down at her phone, thinking that she wouldn't have enough time for a shower, which she really wanted because Coast City was  _hot_  and she'd been dreaming about a cold shower for the past few hours.

"Uh...would eight be okay?" Oliver asked. Felicity glanced up at him, realizing that he was reading the expression on her face, and she smirked. "Okay," He said to John as he smiled back at her, "we'll see you guys soon."

* * *

Felicity was surprised by how nervous she was to go to John and Lyla's. She changed into a pair of lace shorts and a tank top after her shower, putting some product in her hair to keep it from frizzing and then fixed her face with a little bit of make-up. She was just putting her glasses back on her face when Oliver knocked on the bathroom door.

She swung it open, gliding passed him and into the hallway. She snatched her purse from the couch on her way to the door. "Ready," she sang, spinning around to smile at him over her shoulder. He trailed behind her, his eyes roaming from her legs and up to her head, and she couldn't help but notice how strangely domestic the whole night had felt.

Walking to the Diggles' house, their hands intertwined and swaying between them, only made it more so. "You look beautiful." He said, and she thanked him with a smile, feeling herself turning red. He shook his head, a small laugh escaping him as if he couldn't believe they had somehow found themselves spending a night like this. 

Hearing voices coming from the backyard when they reached the house, Oliver led her around the side and through their gate. It was dark, but they had lanterns and stringed lights all over the yard. Felicity raised her eyebrows as she looked around. She'd only seen the living room the first time she'd been here, and she barely remembered it. She barely remembered John and Lyla, too. It wasn't like they were formally introduced. But she was pretty sure she bled on their couch while John Diggle gave her stitches, so she felt a little uncomfortable now.

"Hey," Oliver said as John and Lyla both turned to look at them. Before Felicity could say hello, or either of them could respond, an enthusiastic toddler screeched, abandoning the toys in the sandbox she'd been playing in to barrel towards them.

As she raced across the yard, she didn't show any signs of slowing down. Felicity tried to drop Oliver's hand when she realized that the little girl had full intentions of tossing herself into his arms, but he just squeezed her hand, easily catching the child and hiking her up to his hip with one arm. "Hey little lady," he greeted, swaying with her while she latched on to him. 

The sight was pretty surprising, given what she knew about Oliver. She hadn't exactly thought about it, but she wouldn't have guessed that he was good with kids. The brooding, silent, intimidating side of him seemed like it might scare any young ones. But the little girl was bouncing, she was so excited to see him. And Oliver kissed her cheek a couple of times as she talked at him, her voice too high pitched and animated to understand much of it.

"Sara," He said when she took a breath in her babbling, "this is Felicity, can you say hi?" He mumbled in the girl's ear, his eyes light and playful as he looked at Felicity.

The little girl seemed to notice her for the first time, her attention finally being taken away from Oliver. "Hi!" She chirped.

"Sara?" Felicity asked, "I just made another friend named Sara."

"Uh huh!" The girl's eyes widened, nodding her head quickly. "That's my auntie Sara. Now you have two Sara's! Just like my mommy and daddy and Uncle Ollie!"

Felicity nodded, "I suppose I do. Well, it's a pretty name."

Sara nodded again, giving Felicity a wide, toothless grin. "Thank you! Do you want to play in my sandbox with me?"

Oliver interrupted, "Let us talk to your mom and dad for a little while, okay kiddo? Then we'll play with you."

Sara gave him a look that was all sass. "I was talking to 'Licity, Uncle Ollie, not you."

"Oh," Oliver said, raising an eyebrow and feigning disappointment. "I guess I'll just have to wait until next time to play with you, then."

"No!" She cried, "You can play too!"

Oliver chuckled, putting her back on the ground, "Okay, we'll be over in a bit, go play."

The little girl ran off, and Felicity turned to smile at her parents. "Hi," She said, pulling her hand away from Oliver's so that she could shake theirs. "I didn't really get the chance to actually meet you guys last time I was here. Felicity." She felt like a ball of nerves. How did you introduce yourself to the people who had helped to save your life? "Uh...thank you," she gestures to her arm, "for your help with this."

"Hi Felicity, I'm John. This is Lyla. It's good to see you're feeling better."

"Johnny was a little worried about you," Lyla smiled at her, "when Oliver told us that Deadshot was in his backseat, we were both a little concerned about the curare."

Felicity cocked her head to the side, "Curare?" She asked, having never even heard the word before.

Oliver cleared his throat, "Uh, Lawton laces his bullets with a drug called curare...to ensure the kill."

"Oh," her eyebrows shoot up. "I guess it's a good thing he wasn't trying to kill me then, huh?"

Oliver's arm wraps around her waist, and John and Lyla offer polite smiles. "Well, Felicity," Lyla says, "would you like some coffee?"

"Always. I mean, yes, please."

Lyla laughed, "Come on inside." 

Oliver winked at her as she stepped away from him to follow Lyla, walking up the steps and onto their back porch.

She glanced around the house as she followed Lyla through it, surprised to see more than a couple photos of Oliver around. He's in their wedding photos, as well as plenty with their daughter Sara. The other Sara is also in quite a few. She hadn't thought about how often he came back here, but he seemed to be present for most of their daughter's life.

Felicity guessed that the toddler was about three, and Oliver had told her he'd been living in Starling for a year. But he must come back often if the little girl is so comfortable with him.

"So," Lyla said as she began to brew the coffee. "How are you feeling with all of this? I don't want to pry, I just know Oliver isn't the best when it comes to sharing emotions."

"Really?" Felicity asked, raising her eyebrows. She guessed that was kind of true, but he'd also been incredibly wonderful about it, too. "He's been...pretty amazing."

Lyla watched her for a moment, and then a smile spreads across her lips. "I bet he has," she said slowly. "He said that like it here, despite the circumstances of course."

"I do," Felicity nodded, "I see why Oliver loves it so much. It's beautiful."

Lyla smiled, "It is. We kind of got a lucky deal here, working for a branch like A.R.G.U.S is a little bit easier when you get to live in paradise. Not that it makes the work any easier, but coming home definitely has its perks."

"Oliver must miss it," Felicity pondered, her eyebrows furrowing.

"He visits," Lyla said with another smile, "So does Sara. The blonde one, I mean."

Felicity chuckled, "Was that a coincidence?"

"No, actually" Lyla said, shaking her head. "It's kind of a long story, but A.R.G.U.S houses some...dangerous people in Coast City. I've been a field agent for nearly a decade, and Johnny and I were in the military together before that. But three years ago, I was pregnant and stuck working at headquarters." She rolled her eyes, "Going crazy behind a desk. Of course, it was for safety reasons, but it was hell to not be out there. Anyway, one of the inmates...uh, escaped one day. And he was loose in our facility. He almost killed me, and Sara ended up saving my life."

Felicity raised her eyebrows, "Wow. That's definitely a reason to name your child after a person."

Lyla laughed, "That's what I said. You should see this place when both of them are in here though," she said, rolling her eyes, "You yell at one and get double the sass back."

Felicity laughed too, knowing from her brief encounter with the toddler that she probably had plenty of sass to give. And the older Sara definitely did. She could only imagine.

As Lyla focused on the coffee, Felicity wondered about the people she was meeting from Oliver's life. He seemed so close to this little family, and his connection with Sara clearly ran deep, too.

Everyone he kept in his orbit, he trusted.

His relationships with these people told her a lot about him, what was important to him...and she liked the idea of fitting in to that life. Did she have a place in it, though? Would they even want her here, after her life wasn't in danger anymore? Lyla, John, Sara, and Oliver seemed to have an established dynamic...a chosen family that they'd created. She knew what he'd said about his relationship with Sara, but what if those things changed later on, years from now? She could imagine it; Oliver leaving Starling someday, finished with his mission to save the city. He'd come back here with Sara and fall into this life that seemed so easy. It seemed like it was set up for him to come back to, just waiting for him to settle down here and live the rest of his life with these people. It was his home.

"Wow, Oliver was right. You are a thinker."

Looking back up at Lyla, Felicity cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"Let me guess...there are pictures of Oliver all over our house and we named our kid after Sara and you're wondering if maybe that means something." Felicity just raised an eyebrow, glancing away from the woman because that was  _freaky_. "It doesn't, Felicity. Oliver and Sara were comfortable together. They love each other for everything they've been through. But not like  _that_. they've never been  _in_ love."

It was strange how a woman she'd only just met, one who was not Oliver or Sara, had her believing those words. Lyla spoke with such certainty. And it wasn't like she was saying something different than Oliver had. Not really. Felicity cleared her throat. "I met another one of his exes today," she said with a fake smile. "Helena."

Lyla cringed. "I can't say that Oliver has always made the best decisions." Felicity laughed, and Lyla rolled her eyes.

She poured two cups of coffee on the counter, and they both leaned over them, stirring in sugar as they huddled like two high school friends. It was comforting in a way, different...talking to someone other than Oliver. She hadn't even noticed that it'd been over a week, and he was the only person she'd talked to. "Okay, so if you met Helena...and Sara...then you're probably wondering why he has a tendency to go after women who can break your neck with their bare hands?" Lyla asked with a quirked eyebrow as she sipped her coffee.

Felicity huffed out a surprised laugh. She hadn't thought about it in those words, exactly but... "Yeah, pretty much. They're both...very different from me. Sara's a badass, and Helena just walked right up to our table, told him off, and walked away. I'm...nothing like that. I can't...I don't do what they do. What all of you do. I guess it just makes me wonder what he sees in me." She finished quietly.

Lyla smirked, "I think you're stronger than you think you are. And if you ask me," she said gently, leaning towards Felicity as they heard Oliver and John coming inside with Sara, "I'd say that you're going to end up being one of the best things he has in his life. You probably already are."

With a smile, Felicity drank her coffee, not knowing how to reply, but knowing that Lyla believed what she'd said. And it silenced her insecurities a little bit, to have this woman, who was clearly just as strong and powerful as everyone else Oliver associated with, who was one of his best friends and the mother of the little girl that he clearly adored...tell her that  _she_  was something good in his life. One of the best things.

"What are you two whispering about?" John asked, smirking at them as he came into the kitchen.

Lyla straightened up, and Felicity did too. "Nothing, Johnny," his wife answered, "the poor girl's been stuck with Oliver for so long, I just thought she could use some girl talk."

"Hey," Oliver said, frowning as he adjusted Sara on his hip, coming into the room behind John. "I'm great with girl talk, aren't I, peanut?"

Sara stared at him, her eyes giving him all the answer he needed. He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You're getting more like your mother every time I see you."

"Thank you!" Sara said sweetly, making them all laugh.

"I didn't mean it as a-" Oliver sighed, "You're welcome." He turned back to Lyla, "John said you got Lawton to talk earlier?" He asked, eyeing Felicity, wondering if it was an okay subject. Felicity just nodded once at him in response.

Lyla smiled sadly at her husband, "We did. He said he killed Andy six years ago while he was working security at a night club in Hub City."

Oliver came up beside Felicity, kissing her on the cheek. "Andy is John's brother. A.R.G.U.S has been looking for Lawton for the past six years, ever since a rumor started going around that a man going by the alias Deadshot killed him."

"Oh, wow," Felicity breathed. She glanced at Oliver, wishing he would've told her some of these things before now...curare laced bullets and dead brothers and such...but she also had told him as soon as she woke up after being shot by Lawton that she didn't want to know anything, didn't want to talk about him. She'd told him she needed some time, and he'd clearly given it to her.

Now she had questions, though. "So...where is Floyd Lawton now?" She asked carefully. A.R.G.U.S was part of the government, she knew, but it was also a division that neither she nor any of the population knew about.

Her curiosity was beginning to pique again, after three days of tuning it all out. And she had no idea what a secret branch of the government would do with a known assassin, one who had killed the brother of one of their agents. What they would do  _to_  him.

"He's locked up at A.R.G.U.S," Oliver mumbled, setting Sara on the counted in front of him. He glanced at Felicity, "He can't hurt you."

Felicity just nodded, glancing at John. "And you...are you okay?"

They all glanced at John, who watched Felicity with a small smile on his face. "Yeah," he nodded, "I'm okay, thanks. I always kind of knew that my brother was dead." He sighed, "It's weird to have this final confirmation from Lawton...but it feels good to know that it's over."

"Closure," Felicity whispered gently, and John nodded.

Oliver cleared his throat, "has he said anything else? About H.I.V.E...or Felicity?"

John shook his head, "No, not a word. He told us the same thing he told you after he shot her. Slade was supposed to kidnap her, he failed, so they found Lawton and hired him to do the job. And he said that there'll be more coming for her."

Felicity shivered, and Oliver caught it, slipping his hand into her lap and gripping her fingers.

"Oh!" Lyla yelped, "we did find something strange in his boot."

"In his boot?" Felicity asked, frowning.

"Yeah. Paper. It was sewn into the heel of it. We wouldn't have found it if one of my agents hadn't suggested taking the shoes apart to search them. It's not usually protocol."

Oliver frowned, too "Do you have it here?"

"Yeah," Lyla answered, jogging off down the hall and coming back with the tiny, browned slip. "Lawton said he didn't even know it was there. He has no idea what it is."

Oliver took it from her, holding it up to the light, his eyebrows furrowing. "Sara told me about something like this once..." He mumbled.

Without another word, he set the toddler on Felicity's lap and walked into the kitchen. Reaching into a drawer, he came out with a lighter, setting a flame under the paper and earning a simultaneous "Wait! No!" and "Oliver, don't!" From John and Lyla.

They all watched as black letters began to appear on the tiny piece of paper. "They call it ghost ink. Sara said that The League of Assassins uses it to communicate." He spoke lowly, his eyes focused on the flame, making sure it was bringing out the words but not burning the paper.

As he flicked the lighter off, he read the paper, and then his eyes darted to Felicity, wide with shock...and  _fear?_   His face dropped, and she swore she saw him go a couple shades paler. John and Lyla were completely still, as if they're holding their breaths.

"What?" Felicity asked, her voice just a whisper as she hugged the small child in her lap.

Sara was just as silent as the adults, probably picking up on the tension that came over each of them at Oliver's reaction to the note.

Oliver turned it over so the others could read the words.

_Felicity—question everything._

 


	8. The Dead Don't Say Goodbye to You

"I'm coming with you!" Felicity insisted, struggling with her one good arm as she set Sara Diggle on her feet and followed Oliver through John and Lyla's house. 

He kept walking, and she practically had to run to keep up with him, "Felicity, he knows something. I have to find out what it is. And I have to do it alone."

She didn't stop, following him right into the Diggles' backyard. "Why is this so shocking to you!?" She hissed, falling in step beside him. "Of course they know who I am, we already knew that they have my name, Oliver."

"It's not that, Felicity. It was a message _to_ you...as if whoever sent it knows _you._ I have no idea what 'question everything' means, but someone wants you to doubt _me_." He turned around suddenly, putting his palm to his chest and rendering her speechless with how upset he looked by that. Maybe that's what the note was meant to do, but he couldn't actually think that it would work. Oliver put his hand on the white fence at the edge of the lawn, "I need you to stay here." He said quietly.

"I don't doubt you, Oliver," she whispered, reaching her hand out, grabbing his arm. "I trust you. And I'm coming with you to talk to Lawton." 

He sighed, his tongue slipping out as he thought, and Felicity stared up at him. He seemed to think that she was asking...but she wasn't. She was going, and she wasn't about to be told what to do, especially when it concerned her own life. And Oliver knew it. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his face was smoothed of emotion. He looked over her head, and Felicity turned to see John and Lyla on the back porch, Sara in her father's arms. "Stay with her, please." He grumbled to them, nudging out of her grasp.

"Oliver..." Diggle started, his voice full of warning, and Felicity wondered for a moment if John was about to take her side on this, but the anger that bubbled up inside of her outweighed her curiosity to wait and see what else John had to say to his friend.

"Like hell!" She screamed, "I'm coming whether you like it or not! It's _my_ choice! This is _my_ life, we're talking about! I decide, not you! You can't just tell me sit and stay, I'm not a damn dog, Oliver! What do you expect them to do, shoot me if I follow you!? Look at me!" The last part came out pleading, because he stared over her head as she yelled at him. His expression was sad, taking her anger as if he deserved it. He probably didn't, but the note had freaked her out, too. She wanted to know what was going on as much as he did, and she deserved to be involved in figuring it out. Her shouting made her feel crazy, but so did her life in general at the moment, so she lifted her chin without apology. She had a right to at least a few emotional outbursts.

Oliver pinched his lips together, his eyes landing on hers again. Then he put his hands on either side of her face and stepped closer. As soon as their eyes met, he inhaled deeply, and she instinctively copied it, taking the breath with him and exhaling, trying to calm down. "Okay," he mumbled after another long moment. He nodded slowly, taking another step towards her, pressing his body to hers but careful not to crush her arm in the sling between them. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Okay," he said again against her skin, "I'm sorry. You're right."

Felicity nodded too, finally relaxing into him. If Deadshot had answers, they would get them.

They said a quick goodbye to John, Lyla, and Sara before going back to his house. Oliver lead her by the hand into the garage and found a helmet.

Of course he had a motorcycle, too. She sighed, the idea of being on the back of his, holding on to him, was much more appealing than her ride with Sara.

It was only a five minute ride to headquarters, and Felicity put her head on his back as she watched the dark city spin by her. At each red light, Oliver would place one his hands over hers where it rested on his stomach. It was a little harder to hold on to him with only one arm, but he drove slow.

She had no idea what he was hoping to get out of Floyd Lawton that they hadn't already gotten, but he seemed to be as comforted by their touches during the ride as she was.

When they pulled up to the A.R.G.U.S building, Felicity was thrown off by how normal it looked. It was massive, but for a secret government operation, it seemed surprisingly welcoming. Ordinary. She supposed that that was probably the point.

Oliver didn't speak as he helped her off the bike, taking her hand again and walking into the building. The lobby had wide windows, and three security guards at the door. They each nodded to Oliver, and he stopped in front of two more guards that sat behind a desk in the middle of the room. "Mr. Queen," one of them greeted, narrowing his eyes at him, "I thought you were taking the night off." His eyes flickered to Felicity, and he raised his eyebrows, "Is everything okay?"

"I need to talk to Lawton." Oliver answered.

The guard just shrugged, "Go on down." With a slight nod, Oliver pulled her towards the elevators. 

Once they were inside and the doors were closing, she leaned towards him, "so...what's the plan?"

"The plan is that you're going to wait with one of the agents while I have a chat with Deadshot." She clenched her jaw because waiting in a room with some agent didn't sound much better than sitting at home. He squeezed her hand comfortingly, "They have cameras set up, you can watch and hear the whole thing. And you don't even have to see him face to face."

Exhaling, she squeezed his hand back, she'd been so caught up in convincing him to let her come and the note that she hadn't really thought about having to see Lawton again. "Do you really think there's something Deadshot hasn't told us?"

"There has to be," Oliver sighed, his voice strained. Felicity looped her arm through his, resting her chin on his shoulder as they descended, apparently to the bottom level, which was five floors below ground level. If she wasn't focused on how desperate Oliver seemed, she would probably be asking a lot of questions about this place. But Oliver's back was stiff. He was worried, his guard back up. 

"Hey," she said gently, "it's going to be okay."

He let out a single laugh, "I should be the one saying that to you." Oliver sighed as the doors opened, and he walked her down a long hallway. "I just can't believe I let myself think you were safe here," he muttered, more to himself than to her, "I can't believe I almost let myself forget how serious this is."

She snapped her jaw shut in surprise, reading between the lines. They were still in that motel room, there was still danger, and he regretted letting his walls down tonight. She understood that he didn't mean to say he regretted kissing her, or spending time with her like they had. But at the same time, it was kind of a blow to her as if he did. He'd let his guard down enough to be comfortable with her, to walk down the street holding her hand like they were a couple on vacation. He'd let himself feel safe here, confident that they would be okay. He'd joked with her, _flirted_. 

The note didn't seem as drastic to her as it did for him. Lawton must have had it on him the whole time. Whoever put it in his boot must have been prepared for it to be found. And that was some serious calculated planning on their part, sure, but it didn't mean they weren't safe here. Unfortunately, it had jolted something inside of Oliver, reminded him what they were doing here in the first place. And she got the feeling that the giddy, romantic vacation vibes were over.

Felicity didn't have time to respond as Oliver turned into one of the doors, pulling her along with him. "Ramirez," he quipped, "open the door."

The man he spoke to was alone in a surveillance room, sitting at a bank of computers with his feet up on the desk as he watched the monitors. He unhooked his ankles and put his feet back on the floor, "You got it, hoss," he said, pressing a button. 

Another door beeped and unlocked, and Oliver was moving towards it without another word.

He pulled out one of the chairs on his way and gestured for Felicity to sit. Then he rested his hand gently on her injured shoulder and kissed the top of her head, pointing up at one of the screens. Her eyes focused on it, and her breath caught as she saw Lawton, sitting in a cell and playing solitaire with a deck of cards. "Turn the speakers on for Deadshot so Felicity can hear." Oliver mumbled into her hair, even though he clearly wasn't talking to her. He pressed one more gentle kiss onto her head before straightening his back.

Ramirez flicked a switch, and then Oliver glanced down at her. "You okay here?" He asked. Felicity just nodded, taking everything in as it came.

And then he was gone, the door closing behind him.

Oliver came into view on the screens though, and Felicity followed him with her eyes, watching him walk down the hallway lined with cells. "What is this?" she asked, her eyes flickering to the stranger beside her.

"Director Michaels calls them Task Force X." He shrugged, "Criminals with special skills can trade in prison time and work off their sentences on the Force. They do risky missions...ones that Michaels isn't willing to lose agents over. When the missions are completed, their sentences are reduced."

Felicity's eyebrows furrowed as she thought about that. 

"I'm Rene Ramirez, by the way."

"Felicity Smoak."

He nodded, "we know who you are, blondie. Dig and Oliver got the whole team ready to protect you."

She gritted her teeth at the nickname, but Oliver was at Lawton's cell. Felicity listened as Oliver gripped the bars, "Who sent the note?" He demanded, slamming his palm against the steel door to get Deadshot's attention.

Floyd Lawton just shook his head, "I don't even know what note you're talkin' about. How many times do I have to tell you that I don't know a damn thing?"

Oliver's knuckles turned white as he gripped the bars, and Felicity was surprised at the intensity behind his eyes. "It was in your boot, Lawton" he growled.

Deadshot made a face, seeming only mildly surprised by that. He shrugged, "they must have hid it in there."

"You had to have talked to someone. How did they get a note in your boot without you noticing?"

"What did it say?" Lawton asked with another noncommittal shrug.

"That's none of your business," Oliver retorted. "You must have at least _one_ name, one trail to follow that can lead me to H.I.V.E."

Deadshot finally put his playing cards down, "The note was about Felicity...and now you're out for blood," he guessed.

"Don't even say her name." Oliver warned, "or I swear to god, it'll be your blood I'm out for."

Lawton raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side in understanding as he analyzed Oliver. He raised the queen of hearts, waving it at Oliver. "You love her."

Oliver froze, and so did Felicity. "What?" Oliver snapped. "Just give me a name, Lawton! I'm not messing with you, I'm actually losing all of the patience I had for keeping you alive."

"I don't have any names! I got a burner phone and a transfer wire." He smirked, cocking his head to the side, "come on, Queen, you really think an organization like this wasn't prepared for exactly this outcome? They know me! They have my number, pal, I'm a sell-out. My bullets go to the highest bidder. I don't do loyalty. _You_  have my number, too, so I'm sure you know that's the truth. Those guys wouldn't trust me with their information any more than you would."

"You must know something," Oliver prodded slowly, his voice thick with barely bottled rage. Felicity knew that if the door to Deadshot's cell was open, the conversation would be much more physical. She remembered the way Oliver had put his foot against Lawton's throat when he first found her in the car, bleeding from Deadshot's bullet, and she shuddered. 

Deadshot just laughed, shaking his head, "Man, you really love her, huh? You hear the truth, you know it, yet you can't accept it. Because you need _something_ , don't you? Some kind of answer. Rhyme or reason. You need to be able to tell her she's going to be okay and actually believe it. But you can't make that promise, can you? You have no idea how this whole thing is going to end. You don't know if it will end with her blood on your hands...her body in your arms. _That's_ what's killing you."

Her heart seized in her chest, her eyes burning with unexpected tears, but she kept her focus on Oliver. His lip curled, and pure rage flashed in his eyes, letting her know Lawton was right. That's what Oliver was afraid of. Felicity swallowed as Oliver's eyes flickered right to the camera in the corner of the hallway, right to _her_. And she could see it all over his face; the fear of what would happen and the desperation to stop whatever it was.

Oliver's eyes shifted back to Deadshot, and he just glared for another moment before heading out of the hallway, coming back to the surveillance room.

Felicity got a knot in the pit of her stomach, feeling like something wasn't quite right. Rene unlocked the door to this "Task Force X" hallway, letting Oliver back in. "Ramirez," he sighed, "let me into the communications room, please. I need to call Director Michaels."

Rene nodded, "blondie stays here. Authorized personnel only."

Oliver narrowed his eyes but nodded once. He touched Felicity's cheek as Rene got up, "I'll be right back," he told her, and she forced a smile. She reached her hand out, gripping his fingers as he retreated for the door. She didn't know what to say about Lawton's assessment. Or Oliver's silent confirmation of it. Since she met him, he'd been an intensely focused man. He cared, but he was cautious about how much he let his emotions show.

She hadn't seen that look on his face before.

As soon as the door closed behind them, her fingers were working on their own accord. Being inside the building and already having the servers open for her made it an extremely easy hack, which was good, since it'd been years since she'd done it and she only had one functional hand. 

She easily unlocked the door to the Task Force hallway, and then to be safe, she quickly set up a blocker that would keep it locked behind her. Rene didn't strike her as a particularly clever computer hacker, and she was certain that Oliver's skills wouldn't be sufficient. By the time they called whoever they needed to call, she'd have a few minutes alone with Lawton.

Alone with Lawton.

Felicity took a deep, steadying breath as she hurried into the hallway. She walked quickly down it, remembering which cell Oliver had stopped at. "Hey Felicity, surprised to see you here."

She froze at the familiar voice, backing up and glancing into the cell it had come from.

Helena stood on the other side, dressed in the same orange getup that Lawton was wearing, and she smirked as Felicity gaped. Then Helena wiggled her fingers in a wave, quirking an eyebrow, amused at the shock on Felicity's face. Felicity shook her head to clear it, she didn't have time to be distracted by Oliver's ex who was apparently not only a sexy agent but also a sexy criminal.

She focused her attention back on Deadshot. She didn't have much time. 

Stopping in front of his cell, she caught her breath. "Well, well, Felicity Smoak, you're like a celebrity these days, aren't you?" He grinned. Felicity forced herself to stop shaking, face to face with the man who'd put a bullet in her. "No hard feelings, I hope." He quipped, gesturing to her sling.

"You might not know anything..." she breathed, "but you're an assassin. Oliver's been focusing his questions on what you know about H.I.V.E, but you're not lying about that. You don't know their names or where they operate out of."

He held his hands up, "Finally, someone trusts my damn word!"

She shook her head, "You're an assassin..." she said again, "you might not _know_ , but you have guesses."

Lawton cocked his head to the side, standing up and walking over to the door. "Clever," He murmured, leaning towards her and she held her breath. "Has anyone else made an attempt on your life, Miss Smoak?" She shook her head, and Lawton laughed, raising an eyebrow. "You're right. I have my theories."

"You said that others would come."

"When I'm dead, I'm sure they will."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "you think H.I.V.E is waiting for you to be off the board before they try again? But you're in a cell, they haven't heard from you...for all they know you're dead just like Deathstroke."

He exhaled, shaking his head, "Nah...they know where I am. They're still waiting to see if I can accomplish the task before they dish out money on another hire."

Felicity felt a chill run down her spine. If H.I.V.E still viewed Deadshot as a threat to her safety, then the cell he was in suddenly seemed irrelevant. She straightened her shoulders, he was in there and he couldn't get out. For now, at least. His repose was eerily uncomfortable, though. "How would they know you're alive? Or where you are?" 

Lawton didn't answer, and Felicity grew anxious under his gaze. He stared at her as if he was expecting something to click in her head. And her mind was racing, but she was mostly just confused. She looked away, into his cell. He had pictures all over the walls, a woman with a little girl in every single one. "Is that your daughter?" She asked. Deadshot nodded once. Felicity lifted her chin, forcing herself to keep her voice even as she asked, "is she proud of you?" her voice full of sarcasm.

Deadshot's eyes narrowed. He pulled down the collar of his shirt, and Felicity glanced at the name on his chest. Her eyes shot up to his. Andrew Diggle. "I would say probably not," he shot back.

"You tattoo your victims' names onto your body?" 

"As little reminders. Contrary to what you might think, I kill to stay alive. I capitalized on what I was best at."

"Murder?" she accused in disgust. 

He shrugged, "I couldn't escape my accuracy."

"What turned you into this?" She breathed, looking at the pictures again. The little girl seemed happy. The woman did too. They smiled at the camera in the pictures, laughing and playing. It was hard to believe that the man in front of her was once a part of their lives.

"I was military," he told her, his voice getting lower as if he was confessing his sins. Felicity instinctively stepped closer, listening intently as she felt the shift in his demeanor. She'd tugged on a string, and Lawton was following it. "I pulled triggers. And every time I did...someone died. Every. Single. Time."

"So you abandoned your family to become a hit man? That doesn't seem worth it to me." She provoked, sensing that questioning him and his choices was the button she had to push to keep him talking.

"No. I abandoned my wife and daughter because they're better off without me. So I let them think I was dead. It's better that way."

"But you're not dead," she blurted, "you left them." She was really trying not to draw comparisons to her own life here, but the way her mother spoke about her father had her convinced that he wasn't any better than Floyd Lawton.

"I couldn't just walk away from them. And the dead don't have to say goodbye." His voice was low, the faintest hint of remorse that she had no sympathy for. But she didn't have time to debate with him about what a father should be for his daughter. She took a deep breath, nodding slowly.

It dawned on her that Oliver was probably back in the room by now, that he was probably watching on the monitors as he tried to figure out how to unlock the door. She pursed her lips, "look, you know that A.R.G.U.S isn't going to let you out of here. And I'd be willing to bet that even if you escape somehow...even if you take me to them...H.I.V.E wouldn't let you live by the end of this."

Lawton's eyes flashed, and she could tell that he'd come to the same conclusion. He'd failed and been imprisoned by the U.S. government...he was a liability. He might have been right in what he said to Oliver; she might be dead by the time this was all over, but she was certain that Lawton would be, too... "This isn't going to end with you getting your paycheck and disappearing in the wind..." she mumbled, "we both know that. So help A.R.G.U.S catch H.I.V.E and make your own life easier."

"I don't care to help them with shit." He asserted, glancing away from her.

Felicity leaned into the door, gripping the bars as he looked back up at her. "Fine," she whispered, seeing something in his gaze. He was scared. And he might actually care what happens to him. Maybe he didn't want to be as dead to his family as he'd fronted. "Then help _me_." She had no idea what compelled her to think that would work...but she saw his compliance before he nodded. "And I promise I'll do my best to help you."

"I think H.I.V.E has a man inside A.R.G.U.S," he finally said lowly.

She hesitated, "why would you think that?"

"If I was dead, someone else would have come for you. They know I'm not...but how? You and your boyfriend were the only ones who saw me besides the agents in this evil place."

She bit her lip, nodding. "Okay," she breathed. It was something. It was an idea, and it made sense. Felicity smiled gently at him, "thank you. Hey, maybe Director Michaels will let you work on this Task Force X thing."

Deadshot scoffed, "This ain't no task force. Let's call it like it is." He raised his arms out to the side, quirking an eyebrow at her, "Welcome to the Suicide Squad."

Felicity opened her mouth to answer, to tell him that Lyla wouldn't let them die, but the door at the end of the hallway beeped, making her jump. And then it swung open, and Oliver came into the hallway.

His eyes were heated with anger as he looked at her.

"Felicity, get out of here!" He demanded. She dropped her hand from the bars, stepping away from Deadshot's cell quickly and hurrying down the hallway. 

Oh, she was in trouble.

Oliver set his hands on his hips as he glared at her, his breath heavy. He waited until she walked by him, and then he slammed the door shut behind them. Felicity offered a small, apologetic smile to Ramirez, who leaned in the doorway of the surveillance room with his arms crossed. Almost as irritated as Oliver. But not quite. "What the hell were you thinking!?" Oliver bellowed, "He could have killed you!"

"Lawton is in a locked cell!" Felicity cried, spinning back on him. She wasn't surprised by his anger, she'd kind of been expecting it. She just hadn't seen him get mad yet. Not at her, at least.

Oliver hovered above Felicity, his eyes hard as he stared down at her. He bit his lip, "What you did was reckless, Felicity. The people in those cells are the worst of the worst and you locked yourself in there with them...alone!"

Her first instinct was to snap back about Helena being in there, so they couldn't be that dangerous of people if he'd slept with one of them, but she thought better of it. She definitely didn't need to dive into a fight about that when both of their emotions were running so high. "I also ran away from you and got myself shot  _alone_!" She yelled instead.

His eyebrows pushed together, confused if she was even arguing with him, and she cringed, wondering the same thing. "I remember...that wasn't very smart either, was it?"

Felicity glowered at him, gesturing to the monitors, "Were you watching?" She asked. He exhaled, his eyes still staring at her apprehensively. Which was earned, she'd literally locked him out of the Task Force hallway without telling him what she was doing, but at least she'd gotten an answer. He nodded once. "So you heard his theory?"

Oliver set his hands on his hips again, and she pursed her lips, feeling the irritation rolling off of him. "Felicity, Lyla vets every agent in this building herself. Deadshot was just trying to tell you something you wanted to hear."

"Why would he do that?" She questioned. Oliver raised an eyebrow, and she leveled him with a look. "He tried to kidnap me and hand me over to an evil "hive"...he _shot_ me! You're not actually suggesting that he was _flirting_ with me."

"We've been trying to get him to talk for days with no luck, you go in there and he can't shut up."

She squirmed, wincing as her shoulder protested, "Maybe because I tried getting through to him with something other than screaming in his face or punching it! Yeah, I saw those bruises, Oliver. Don't think I'm dense enough to believe that this creepy basement "Task Force X" bullshit is above brutality!"

"I did that," He deadpanned. "To him. That was me, not A.R.G.U.S"

Felicity just exhaled, not exactly surprised by that. "He had a point. No one has tried to kidnap or kill me since that day on the road. Since him."

"Maybe because they don't know where we are, Felicity. Or maybe they do, and they know that Coast City is crawling with trained agents. I don't know, but Lawton's theory about a mole is weak and baseless."

"Give me your phone." She snapped. She'd already drawn her own conclusions as soon as Deadshot had suggested that someone in A.R.G.U.S was working for the bad guys.

"What?"

"I need to call Lyla."

Oliver cocked his head to the side, but pulled it out and handed it to her without question. Even if he was furious with her for the stunt she pulled, her did what she asked. He trusted her. Felicity felt her anger subside immediately as her fingers brushed his, seeing him exhale in the same calming moment. 

Felicity was used to arguments. Yelling. Leaving. She'd grown up with all of that. But she realized that Oliver's anger came from fear. She'd scared him with what she'd done. It came from a place of  _caring_. And that was different than the men in her past, he wasn't picking a fight in an attempt to tear her down or make her feel inferior. He wasn't even picking a fight...he was upset.

She looked up at him, nodding once in complete understanding. His eyes softened in a silent apology, and he sighed.

As the phone rang, Felicity leaned into him, amazed that they'd somehow doused their anger and forgiven each other all without a word. He pulled her into his arms, breathing her in and kissing his temple, his angry energy was replaced with relief. She almost felt guilty about going to talk to Deadshot, but the answers she'd gotten made it worth it. And she knew Oliver never would have opened that door for her.

"Hello?" Lyla answered.

"Lyla," she said, picking her head up from Oliver's chest to look at his face. The intensity of their indignation faded as quickly as it had come, and all she saw in his eyes now was curiosity. "I have a quick question for you."

"Hey, Felicity. Shoot."

"Who was the agent that suggested checking Lawton's boots?"

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed, and she watched as he came to the same conclusion she had.

Deadshot thought that someone within A.R.G.U.S was connected with H.I.V.E, feeding them information. Felicity remembered Lyla saying when they found the note that taking apart a prisoner's clothing wasn't typical protocol. Someone had told them to do it. Someone wanted them to find it in Lawton's boot.

Lyla said his name at the same time that Oliver's face dropped, and she thought for a split second that he'd heard Lyla, but Oliver was looking over her head, focused on the door. She cursed as her head spun around just in time to see Ramirez pointing a gun at them.

And then Oliver was yanking her to the floor.

They knelt behind the table as bullets began to ricochet around the room. Oliver crawled over to a drawer a few feet away, pulling out a gun and firing back at Rene. Rene jumped out of the room as Oliver's shooting seemed to be much more accurate. But he stuck his hand into the room to continue shooting at them.

Felicity groaned, hiding under Oliver's arm as his hand shielded her face. Lyla was yelling into her ear, but Felicity barely heard it over all the gunfire. Eventually it slowed, and then stopped completely. Oliver stood up, holding a hand out, telling her to stay down. "I have to stop him," Oliver growled, "please stay here and don't move until I come back." He pleaded as if he expected her to get up and run into a hailstorm of bullets. 

Well...with the risky and life-endangering decisions he'd seen her make so far, she probably wasn't too far off on what Oliver thought she would do. She nodded adamantly. "I promise I'll be right here," she whispered, "go!"

He turned and quickly headed for the door, following after Rene.

"Felicity!" Lyla hissed in her ear, "what's happening?"

"Lyla," she grumbled into the phone, "you might want to lock your building down before Rene Ramirez finds a way out, and you'll probably want to get over here. I think we found your mole."


	9. As Much as I Ever Could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: This chapter contains smut! And by contains, I mean it IS smut. You can skip it if you want, just read end of chapter notes for a brief summary!

Catching up to Rene was easy. Disarming him only took a moment, and then Oliver was following a group of agents to the holding cells, making sure that Rene was locked up nice and tight before he went back to Felicity.

Ramirez had pounded his fists against the door, "you're wasting your time, hoss. I'm not saying a word."

"We'll see about that," Oliver had replied, keeping his voice low with a dark promise. "Everyone has a breaking point," he raised an eyebrow as a flash of fear crossed Rene's face. "I'll find yours, Ramirez. Trust me."

Once he was satisfied with Rene's status, he'd told three of the agents to stay and watch him while they waited for Lyla, and then he'd jogged down the stairs, not stopping until he was back in the surveillance room he'd left Felicity in. He noticed her blonde hair hiding behind the table, and he dropped to his knees, moving towards her.

Felicity's eyes darted up as she heard him, but she instantly let out a breath of relief, dropping the gun she'd apparently taken from one of the drawers. "Hey," he mumbled, pulling her into his arms and pushing the gun away, hating that she'd felt the need to take it out in the first place, that she was alone, thinking she needed to protect herself. "You're okay. It's over."

"Did you find him?" Felicity whispered back, her voice full of nerves.

Oliver nodded, sighing into her hair and holding her a little tighter, "we have him. Lyla should be here any minute, and then we'll decide what to do next."

"That was fast," she pulled back, her eyebrows furrowing. "You caught him already?"

Oliver just smirked, helping her to her feet and tucking both of the guns back into the drawer. "Yeah, well Ramirez is a hot headed newbie. He surprised me, but he wasn't hard to restrain. I'm thinking he's a low level rat for H.I.V.E." he cringed, knowing that low level rats usually weren't trusted with valuable information. "But hopefully he knows _something_ that will help us get closer. Come on, let's head upstairs and wait for John and Lyla."

It was past two in the morning by the time they left headquarters.

Oliver sat in one of the conference rooms with Lyla, John and Felicity for most of that time. Felicity sat by his side, looking down at his fingers in her lap, absently playing with them and offering him reassuring smiles whenever he met her eyes. John silently stared out the window, lost in thought, and his wife glared down at her hands with a blank expression, wringing them together while she tried to wrap her head around the fact that a traitor had been working for her and she'd had no idea.

None of them spoke for a very long time. Not until Felicity couldn't stand the silence anymore. Her knee started bouncing, and Oliver could feel the nervous tension rolling off of her as each minute passed without any of them saying a word. Surprising himself, he actually found amusement in it, choosing to watch Felicity fidget instead of thinking about what Rene's betrayal meant.

Finally, Felicity sighed, wondering aloud what their plan was.

She looked to Lyla first, but the Director's confidence was shaken, visibly unsure of herself or what the right call was. Oliver was almost as clueless. All he knew was that he needed to get in that room to question Rene. As Felicity's question hung in the silence, it was John who finally sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "Ramirez isn't going to talk tonight."

"We have to try," Oliver immediately replied, narrowing his eyes.

Dig shrugged, "if you want, but I think it'll be a waste of time. We should let him sweat it out for the night. Ramirez is tough, but he'll get spooked if he's left to stew for a few hours, wondering what we're digging up on him. We could work with that."

Oliver hesitated, keeping his eyes on John as he felt Felicity's gaze shift to him. Rene was stubborn, but he was also paranoid. Some time alone could definitely drive him a bit crazy, especially since he was expecting Oliver to go in there and hurt him. Oliver could picture Rene in there, pacing and wondering when he'd be coming, growing more and more anxious as the minutes passed. It would definitely get under his skin, mess with his head, which was exactly what they wanted.

Besides, Oliver had always trusted John Diggle. From the moment Dig had shown up on Lian Yu, Oliver had felt like he was a _good_ man. And after so much bad, it was hard not to want to believe in that. John had become one of the only people who could get through to Oliver, who could talk through his stubbornness, as Oliver tried to adjust to life off of the island. He'd gone from living day to day, fighting threats as they came and simply trying to survive, to being thrown into a world of soldiers, rules, and protocol. Somewhere along the way, he and John Diggle became brothers. His word meant something to Oliver. It meant everything. So Oliver slowly nodded along with his friend now, trusting John's instincts more than his own in that moment.

His own instincts had been screaming at him to punch Rene Ramirez in his traitor face until he got answers. But it was an emotional response. He _wanted_ to beat on the guy for nearly getting Felicity killed, for _shooting_ at her, but that didn't mean it would get them anywhere. It didn't mean it was _right_.

So he agreed to go home with Felicity, get a few hours of sleep, and come back to A.R.G.U.S first thing in the morning, where they would deal with Ramirez.

He felt his own exhaustion during the ride back to his house. Felicity held on tightly with her one good arm, and Oliver kept a grip on her thigh, driving slowly and mentally reminding himself to trade his motorcycle for Diggle's car in the morning. Felicity did seem to like the bike...but it was tricky with her arm in a sling.

As soon as he pulled into the garage, Felicity hopped off the motorcycle ungracefully, using him to keep from falling. She was practically bouncing with adrenaline.

Oliver sighed, knowing that she'd been shot at, and her energy was still catching up with the excitement coursing through her. Sleep had been his plan, but Felicity was practically shaking as they made their way inside. He frowned, unsure if her body needed to relax or if she needed to talk. Either way, he knew a good place to start. "Why don't you head upstairs and get ready for bed?" He suggested, "I'll make some tea and meet you up there." And she happily agreed.

One of his favorite things about having Felicity in Coast City was her love for his bed. 

The worst thing about the island was sleeping on the ground. For years. Every night. He'd never truly gotten used to it, and his back had paid for it at such a young age. So when he finally made his return to civilization, comfortable beds were his only demand. It was one of the only luxuries he allowed himself; expensive mattresses, silk sheets, and a plethora of pillows.

The fact that Felicity found comfort in it, that it made her feel safe to crawl into that bed with him, had surprised him. He'd expected her to have a hard time sleeping after everything she'd seen and been through over the past two weeks...but every night, she nestled herself into his arms and fell asleep almost instantly, not waking up until the morning.

And he really, _really_ liked sharing a bed with her.

He carried the tea upstairs, expecting to find her already asleep, curled up in his blankets and pillows. But the bed was empty, untouched. "Felicity?" He asked curiously, frowning.

"It's open!" Her voice replied from the bathroom, the door cracked slightly. He set his mug on the nightstand, and then he pushed the bathroom door open gently, raising his eyebrows when he found her in the bathtub. She lifted her hand from the bubbles, wiggling her fingers at him and offering a sheepish smile. He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm a little wired. Sleep seemed impossible, so I thought a bath might help."

When they'd first arrived in Coast City, he'd taken a trip to the grocery store and filled his kitchen, but he'd also stopped for bath salts, oils, bubbles, and anything else that he thought might bring Felicity some comfort. He knew she'd enjoyed the bathtub already, during those first few days when she'd needed some time to digest everything. He just hadn't had the pleasure of _seeing_ it, seeing her so relaxed and comfortable in his space. Oliver closed the lid on the toilet, sitting down beside the tub with her the mug of tea in his hand, "shootouts will definitely get your adrenaline flowing. Tea should help calm you down a bit, too."

"How are you so relaxed?" She asked, eyeing him over her blanket of white bubbles, her hair in an adorable bun on top of her head. There were loose, wet strands that clung to her neck, and Oliver had to pull his eyes away after a moment too long staring. 

He cleared his throat. "I've been shot at a time or two."

Her eyes fell to his chest, and even though he was much more clothed than she was at the moment, he knew that she was picturing the scars. There were so many stories...so many questions she must still have...pieces of him that she was surely curious about. Conversations that they'd never been able to have, never having enough time between the running and the people trying to take her away from him. 

After a moment of silence, Felicity's eyes lifted back to his, an unreadable expression on her face. She bit her lip, gesturing to the mug still in his hands, "for me?"

He nodded, standing up to give her the tea. She thanked him, and he hesitated in the middle of the room, glancing between the tub and the bedroom.

He wanted to sit back down and talk to Felicity, or climb in there with her, if he was being honest. Instead, he nodded to her one more time before hurrying into the bedroom. Thoughts of sharing a bath with her were a bit too overwhelming, sending a jolt straight to his pants. He left the door open, walking to the closet and pulling his clothes off as he went. He tossed all of it into the hamper, tugging on a pair of sweats just as she called his name again.

Oliver took a deep breath, trying not to imagine what was under that water as he walked back to the door, leaning against the frame and taking in the sight of her again. The bubbles were starting to disappear... Felicity smiled shyly at him, pointing to the closet, "could you please grab me that oil?" She asked quietly, "I forgot to put some in." He nodded sharply, his back stiffening as he tried not to think about her soft, smooth skin...smelling like the flowery bath oil he'd bought. 

As he handed her the container, she looked up at him, that same unreadable expression behind her gaze, but he was unable to look away.

Felicity set the oil on the ground without using it, keeping her eyes on him. "Oliver..." she mumbled, her voice trailing off as she bit her lip again, her gaze dropping to his lips. And he knew exactly what she wanted. He leaned down, gripping the tub on either side of her, bending down until his nose brushed against hers, his breath quickening as he smelled the lavender on her skin.

She smelled amazing, and he could feel her smile as he moved his lips gently against hers.

She kissed him back, and it felt just as good as it had in the motel room. Just as good as it had in the backyard. But now, they were alone, and they had a few hours before they had to be back at A.R.G.U.S. He knew that they needed to sleep, but nothing seemed more important than her, than focusing on her, on them, the way he'd wanted to ever since he met her.

Rubbing her nose against his, she whispered, "come in here," and he felt his cock jerk in response. Oliver nodded, kissing her lips again, getting distracted by them. She really was an incredible kisser. The more he kissed her, the more he was thinking that he never wanted it to stop. But Felicity got impatient; her sore arm was tucked against her chest, but she reached out with her free hand. Her wet fingers grabbing onto his sweatpants where they hung on his waist, and she tugged them down. 

The cutest, almost nervous giggle escaped her lips, and he couldn't help but laugh, too. She met his eyes, and he was struck again by how comfortable he was with this woman. He could sense her nerves, and he had some, too, but they were only the good kind.

She was changing him, letting him become the person he wanted to be and the man she needed. It felt amazing, so physically and emotionally satisfying just to feel her smiling as she kissed him.

After what happened with Ramirez, he knew himself well enough to know that brooding and blaming himself were his usual next steps. Or beating the shit out of someone until he felt a little better. Isolating himself was just his way.

John, Lyla, and Sara had all learned when to give him space, but the idea of not wanting to be near Felicity seemed far-fetched.

He was used to being alone, to being tuned out and cold when things were rough. But with her, he was happy to kiss her, to chuckle as she tried to take his pants off and invite him into her bath. _This_ was the future he could get used to. It surprised him how easily he was able to put Ramirez on the back burner to focus on the amazing woman currently in his bathtub.

Oliver shook his head, smiling as he finished taking his clothes off, staring down at her while her eyes dropped to his waist.

She hummed as he climbed into the tub behind her, with plenty of space for two. The bubbles were almost completely gone now, and he felt himself hardening as she shifted her legs, making room for him to get comfortable. He kissed her temple, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face. Felicity sighed, pressing her back against his chest and rolling her head to rest on his shoulder. "Hi," she grinned, sounding a little breathless.

Despite how incredibly turned on he was, he couldn't help but melt into her, pressing his lips to her cheek. She'd been so jittery just a few minutes ago, and now she seemed blissful, the tension leaving her shoulders. "I'm not really a bath person...but this...is perfect."

Felicity scrunched her nose, "I'm surprised I actually got you in here."

Oliver couldn't stop himself from kissing the tip of her nose, enamored with the expression on her face."You are?" He asked, smiling down at her, "because I'm impressed with myself for not jumping in here with you as soon as I walked into the room."

The giggle she gave him was gorgeous, and he made a mental note to flirt with her more often. He knew that for the past two weeks, she'd mostly seen the serious, calculated, protective side of him...but he wanted her to get to know all of him. Every side. And there was a lightness inside of him that had been waiting to be restored by someone just like her.

The moments of humor in his life were previously reserved for one Sara Diggle, but Oliver was finding that making Felicity smile was just as heartwarming. It was actually pretty intoxicating to hear the woman's laughter and know that he'd caused it.

His arms were resting on either side of the tub, and Felicity's fingers were absently tracing up and down them. He kissed her face again, shamelessly unable to stop, and wrapped his arms around her. It struck him that this was the most intimate they'd ever been, the most vulnerable, yet it was somehow also the most comfortable. She sighed into his embrace, her eyes slipping shut. "You okay?" He mumbled into her hair, remembering how uncertain she'd been about his feelings for her just a few hours ago. They'd cleared the air, but he wanted to make sure this wasn't too much, too soon.

She nodded quickly, squeezing his arms, "more than okay," she breathed, "at the risk of embarrassment...it feels really good to be in your arms, Oliver. I feel safe here."

He paused, his heart clenching a little bit as he realized that he wanted her to always feel that way. She could stay in his arms for as long as she pleased. "At the risk of embarrassment," he whispered into her ear, "it feels really good to have you in my arms, Felicity. I could get used to this."

She nodded slowly as if she'd had similar thoughts. Felicity didn't speak for a long moment, and Oliver closed his eyes, enjoying the warm water on his skin and the hints of lavender filling his nose as her fingers grazed his arms. It felt so good, he instantly relaxed, letting his eyes slide shut.

Sleep was overrated. This was better, anyway. "Where did this one come from?" She whispered, her finger tracing over a white, faded scar on the back of his hand. His arms and hands were mostly clean, but this scar ran from his knuckle to his thumb in a crescent moon shape.

He hesitated for a moment, closing his eyes again and appreciating how good her touch felt. He didn't want to think too much about it, but when Felicity touched him, it felt like he'd been starving for the simple contact. Of course, his life hadn't exactly been lacking when it came to the touch of a woman...yet somehow his body responded to her as if he hadn't been touched in years. It was a completely new sensation, and part of him knew that it was slightly true. He usually didn't find comfort in touch, in someone's embrace. He never had...not since he lost his family. But touching her was grounding, like he'd never experienced. It made him feel whole in a way he hadn't since he was just a kid.

If just her fingers on his hand made thoughts like that circle his brain, he couldn't even imagine how extraordinary it would feel to be inside of her. He shook his head at himself as his cock twitched again, trying to focus on her question.

Oliver sighed, turning his hand over so he could see it, "fishing hook," he finally answered quietly.

She turned her head, resting her face against his shoulder so she could look up at him, and he met her gaze. Her fingers still slid against his, exploring his hand. Her eyebrows furrowed, "how old were you?"

Licking his lips, Oliver tried to shift gears, catching on to what she was probably about to start... all of his scars had stories. He shivered, knowing that sharing was necessary if he wanted her to feel comfortable with him, but dreading it because there were things buried inside of him that no one had ever touched. But she needed it, she needed to know him, even the darkest parts. More than that, he really wanted her to know. To understand what he'd been through, to understand him. He had no idea what his future held, but he knew that he wanted her to be a part of it. And that meant opening himself up to her, giving her the bad with the good. The darkness and the lightness.

"I was thirteen. Slade was trying to teach me how to fish on the island." Her eyes glanced back down at his hand, her finger gently tracing the shape of his scar again as he finished, "I was casting the line and it got caught on my hand."

Felicity brought his hand to her mouth, making his breath catch as she pressed her lips from his thumb to his knuckles in soft, perfect little kisses. He knew that his other scars were much harder to talk about, but god, if she kept doing that...it'd be very worth it. "And this one?" She whispered, her index finger skimming over a protruding scar on his shoulder.

He sighed, tightening his arms around her more for himself than for her. She hugged him back, her head resting just next to the scar. "There was a man that came to the island searching for Slade. Sara and I had already killed Slade by the time Billy Wintergreen came along. Or so we'd thought. Wintergreen had a hard time believing that Slade was dead, which was apparently a fair assumption, but...he didn't believe me and Sara when we told him that Slade Wilson was gone. This scar...and a lot of the others...were his way of trying to get the truth out of me. It took him a few weeks to realize, or maybe to care...that I was telling him the truth; as far as I'd known, Slade was dead."

She cringed a little bit, turning her lips against it, kissing that one, too. He felt a shiver as her breath blew across his wet skin, watching as her eyes slipped shut. "He tortured you?" She asked quietly, "for _weeks_?"

Oliver nodded once, his mouth moving against her forehead. He knew that Billy Wintergreen hadn't been the first or last person to inflict pain on his body or his mind. But how much did she want to know right now? Felicity digested the information, shrinking into his embrace a little more. And Oliver held her back, feeling the shift in her demeanor from 'curious about his past' to 'politely done with the conversation.'

It wasn't that she didn't want to know, or that she didn't care. In fact, he was perfectly certain that she cared a lot...that she felt for him on a deeper level than anyone he'd ever known. But neither of them needed to recap every gory slice of Wintergreen's knife. The look on Felicity's face told him everything he needed to know. She took on his scars as if they were hers, and the compassion in her eyes was unlike anything he'd seen before.

The sympathy she carried had weight, and he would never let his burdens drag her down.

"It's okay, Felicity," he mumbled, at a loss for words as he recognized the pain in her eyes, almost as palpable as the unfamiliar man he'd stared at in the mirror for months, when he'd come back from Lian-Yu. "I'm better now."

She laughed once, "shouldn't it be me consoling you?"

He shook his head, "this all happened a long time ago. I don't like to talk about it, but I don't feel that pain anymore. This _is_ about you, Felicity...It's all up to you; how much you want to know, _when_ you want to hear it...I'll just be here to do my best to give you whatever you need."

Felicity looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing, "how are you this incredible?" she mumbled. Their opinions differed on that, but if she was happy, he was happy. Oliver leaned towards her, skimming his nose along her cheek, resting his forehead against hers and waiting. He wasn't sure what exactly he was waiting for. Maybe to see if she wanted to ask another question, or to see if she'd lie back on his chest again.

But the air shifted, and his body noticed. She arched into him, her shoulders tensing slightly, the electricity between them sparking back to life. Felicity held her breath, her mouth an inch from his, but still, he waited.

She nodded slowly, as if she read and understood his hesitation. He didn't want to push her, if she wanted to relax naked in a bathtub and listen to his stories, he was perfectly fine with that. More than fine.

After a moment, she reached up with her hand, gripping his neck and pulling him closer with a soft moan. It was a sound that he needed to hear more of. He needed to hear what other noises he could bring out of her, too, because the way she moved and sighed whenever her lips met his, told him that she was a very expressive woman, which made his heart beat a little faster. But then Felicity flinched, inhaling sharply as her hand dropped from his neck. 

He pulled back, but she seemed undeterred, kissing him again. "You okay?" He mumbled into her mouth, groaning when she used the opportunity to nip at his bottom lip.

Felicity nodded, "just my arm," she whispered back. He leaned back a little more, meeting her eyes. She smiled reassuringly, kissing him again, her tongue sliding along the seam of his lips. He opened for her with a moan, needing to be _closer_. He could feel her grinning as he kissed her, as if she couldn't stop. He opened his eyes, trying to control his breath, pressing his forehead against hers. The way she looked back at him made his heart feel absolutely _whole_...like nothing mattered but them.

There was so much going on that he couldn't predict, that he couldn't protect her from. But here, she was safe. Here she was happy. And he needed that smile to stay in place. 

Oliver slipped his hands beneath the water, grazing her ribs and listening to her hum, encouraging him as she wiggled between his legs, leaning up even more, her tongue sliding against his in the most delicious way. He slowly ran his hands from her thighs to her ribs, letting his fingers enjoy the soft curve of her hips. After a few minutes of touching her, keeping his hands focused on safer areas, she groaned into his mouth, pulling her lips away from him. Felicity turned back around, resting her head on his chest and gripping her hands over his, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths, her breasts lifting from the water as she inhaled.

The water in the bath wasn't exactly hot anymore, but it definitely wasn't cold enough to warrant the perfectly pebbled nipples that she slid his fingers over, guiding his hands where she wanted them, a low hiss escaping her lips as his fingers touched her. 

He dropped his mouth to her ear, watching as she led him, her fingers intertwined with his, his knuckles gently skimming the hardened nubs. "God, you're gorgeous," he breathed, a dull, hot fire in the pit of his stomach. The way she controlled his hands was sexy as hell...but she grinned up at him, her head lolling to the side so she could see his face.

He pulled his eyes away from their hands to gaze down at her, meeting her eyes in a silent conversation. The look in her eyes was _everything,_  telling him exactly what he needed to know. She wanted this. The gaze that stared back at him was captivating, playful yet adorably shy all at the same time.

Glancing back down at the water, he spread his fingers, and she rested her hands on top of his as he palmed her breasts. She arched her back, urging him to squeeze harder, and he pinched one of her nipples between his fingers. He caught her earlobe between his lips at the same time, biting down on it. She cried out, and it was complete music to his ears. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard a more alluring sound. "Felicity," he groaned, sucking on her ear, soothing the spot and appreciating her tiny, breathless pants as he softened his touch, brushing his fingertips across her nipples.

Taking his time, he explored her, kneading her breasts and appreciating how perfectly they fit in his palms. His hands were all over her as her body surged, chasing the feeling. Oliver took in every inch of her, from the perfect curve of her breasts to the adorable freckle right above her bellybutton.

He listened to the eager moan that fell from her lips when his hand finally skimmed over her sex. And he bit his lip, closing his eyes, completely focused on learning those sounds and knowing them. Knowing where to touch her to make her hum, to make her shiver, to make her scream.

Opening his eyes, Oliver glanced down at where his hands touched her, kissing and sucking on her ear at the same time. He teased her, pinching her nipples between his thumb and index finger, tugging on them gently, the whole world falling away as he gave his attention to her responses, wanting to burn them into his memory for future use. Experimentally, he brought his lips to her neck, sucking on her skin gently at first, hearing her moan before he sucked harder, nipping at her with his teeth, making his mark and groaning when she hissed his name, followed by a needy "oh god, yes." He wanted to know what she liked, how to touch her to get a desired reaction, and he was pleased to realize how receptive she was.

Slowly, he slid his hands down her body, gliding under the water and over her stomach before he'd bring them back up, getting lower every time he slipped down.

He could tell that she was getting impatient, ready to be touched where she needed him...and damn it, if that wasn't a wonderful thought. Her body was so compliant in his arms, her legs falling open, pressing against his own against the sides of the tub. Her breath caught in her throat when on his next trip down her stomach, his fingers grazed her sex again. 

Every inch of her body was asking him to touch her, but he needed to make sure. He wanted to hear her say it. Bringing his hands back up, he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly and smiling, listening to her desperate exhale as she realized that he wasn't going to touch her just yet. She gripped his arms, happy in the embrace, but he knew that she was looking for something else. Something that he was more than willing to give her. "Are you sure," he mumbled against her ear, "that you want to do this right now?"

"Yes," she was practically purring in reply. "Touch me, Oliver, please..." her eyes slid shut, and she caught her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Shit," he sighed, nodding once, taking a deep breath as she wiggled against him. She didn't have to tell him twice. Her jaw was lax, her head relaxed against his shoulder, her eyes closed but her expression focused. Her legs were spread wide. And he was just as eager to give her the release she was waiting for. Still, he took his time as he moved his arms, sliding back a little more so she could lay back on his chest.

He started at her face, running his fingers over her chin, tilting her head up so he could kiss her. She met his lips happily, sighing as his hands traveled down her body again, slower than before, until he reached her waist. 

Then he wrapped one arm around her, holding her in place between his legs before his other hand slid to her sex, gently brushing against her folds as her hips thrusted forward. He groaned, realizing that it'd been _at least_ two weeks since she'd been touched, since she'd been satisfied...and even more than that, she'd spent those two weeks frustrated, confused and afraid. Yet she'd been so steady, handling her situation with such gorgeous strength.

She deserved this.

God, how he not done this for her sooner?

She was totally relaxed in his embrace, pleasure emitting from her body that he felt proud to know he was giving to her. He slowly rubbed his index and middle finger against her clit, biting back his own groan when he discovered how wet she was. Felicity cried out as soon as his fingers touched her sensitive clit, her hips lifting and rolling against his hand desperately, making him more aroused than he could ever remember being, and she wasn't even touching him.

"Felicity," he choked out as his arm around her waist tightened. She moaned in response, grinding into his hand again. "Fuck," he breathed, suddenly feeling breathless at how turned on he was just to feel her. He quickened his pace, meeting her movements, the room filling with her gorgeous cries.

"Yes," she encouraged him, her voice sounding only half aware, the other side of her was focused on her orgasm as she tilted her head back, reaching her hand up to grab his cheek, pulling his lips back to hers. The faster he rubbed her, the less she wiggled, the more she relaxed against him. Her kiss was fervent, and he met her tongue just as eagerly, moaning into her mouth.

Without warning, he slid his fingers inside of her easily, pushing them in and feeling her walls clench around him. She cried out, and he groaned just as loudly, knowing immediately how good it would feel to bury himself inside of her as her warm, wet walls pulsed around his fingers.

"Yes, Oliver," she whispered, catching his bottom lip between her teeth. As she released it, her eyes slipped open, and he felt her gaze on his face, opening his own eyes to meet her. She smiled, and despite the seductive look in her eye or the passionate roll of her hips, the smile was sweet. Patient, like she never wanted this moment to end, either. He smiled back, pushing his fingers in further, watching as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She was focused on _feeling,_ on her own pleasure...and it was erotic as hell. Her nose grazed his, her lips gently brushing against his, and he could feel her gentle breath blowing across his cheek. 

He pulled his fingers out, and pushed them back in, moving slowly at first. She nodded in approval, and he pressed his wrist against her clit, rubbing it as his fingers thrusted into her faster. "Oh my god," she breathed, her eyes closing on their own accord, "yes, Oliver, that feels amazing," she whimpered. The encouragements fell from her lips wildly; "don't stop," and "just like that," and "oh god, please," coming out in half-conscious whispers as the orgasm they chased together got closer.

The words came seemingly without her knowledge, reminding him of the way she babbled, but her voice had a tone of tension that kept him focused, fascinated to see how she'd feel as she came, what she'd sound like. He plunged his fingers into her again and again, keeping his palm pressed to her clit as he moved, rubbing it in quick, rough circles, feeling her hips surge in the water to ride against him, meeting his hand.

It wasn't long before he felt her freeze, her body tensing, her walls tightening around his fingers. It was only a moment, but he read her body perfectly, predicting her orgasm just a breath before she let out a sharp cry, and then it was his name on her lips, his name that she called out as she felt the pleasure he'd brought her, and a rush of pride ran over him.

As her legs shook, he pulled his fingers out of her, quickly bringing them to her clit again and rubbing, fast and hard, even more pride raking over him as her nails dug into his arm and she screamed his name one more time, a second orgasm shooting through her on the heels of the first. 

Oliver held her to his chest, removing his hand from her perfect sex as she came down. It was perfect, he'd already decided. What he'd just felt was enough to know how perfect she was, he didn't need to be inside of her to understand _that_.

He let his head fall back, looking up at the ceiling, mildly in shock...because he'd never experienced anything quite like that, and he wasn't even the one who came. He'd never call himself a selfish lover, but he'd also never cared to be so invested in a woman's orgasm. But doing that with Felicity...he'd wanted her to feel it as much as she did. 

Felicity's gentle laughter had him bringing his gaze back down to her, and he raised an eyebrow, grinning. "If I tell you how amazing that was," she chewed on her bottom lip, "will I be blowing up your ego to an unnecessary size?"

Chuckling, he shook his head, "you don't have to tell me. The sounds you made were fantastic...it was pretty clear."

Her jaw dropped, and she swatted his chest. Oliver laughed again, catching her hand and bringing her fingers to his lips. They'd already been though a lot together for such a short time of knowing each other, but this was something different. This wasn't a heartfelt vow to protect her, or a promise that he'd be there for her. It was _fun_ , and he was ecstatic that they were able to forget about their situation long enough to enjoy it, to have this memory.

He sure as hell was never going to be able to look at his bathtub without thinking about her. Ever again.

Her eyes sparked with delight as she glanced up at him. "I guess I'll have to find out what kind of noises _you_ make. It's only fair."

Oliver raised an eyebrow, "not that I'm disagreeing, but maybe it's about time to get out of this bath..." he cringed, realizing that the water was colder than it had felt when he'd been focused on pleasing Felicity.

She nodded in agreement, already moving. He waited as she picked up the towel she'd pulled out for herself, wrapping it around her body before going to the closet to get him one. He stood up as she held it out for him, her gaze instantly dropping to his cock. He smirked, "thank you,"

Felicity lifted her eyes to his as he stepped out and fixed the towel around his waist, her mouth twitching as she fought back a smile.

"You go ahead, get ready for bed," he nodded to the bedroom, "I can clean up in here." Felicity nodded once, heading for the bedroom to get into her pajamas as He drained the tub and cleaned up the unnoticed water they'd somehow splashed on the floor.

It was late, he noted when he came into the bedroom, his eyes glancing to Felicity as soon as he opened the door. She was lying on her side of the bed, fighting sleep already. He hesitated... _her_ side. 

He couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face at the thought. There had never been anyone in his life that he'd mentally dedicated a side of his bed to. But it was hers. It was so hers, he felt giddy just thinking about it. And god, she was beautiful, her damp hair spread across the pillow behind her, her body curled up and angled towards the spot on the bed that he was about settle into, as if she was waiting for him to occupy the space.

She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes literally looking like she was battling against fatigue, trying to keep them open.

"What's so funny?" she asked, the grin on her face was satisfied and peaceful, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, and he was happy to think that he'd played a part in causing that expression.

With a chuckle, he knelt on the bed, leaning over her to kiss her forehead. "Nothing funny," he mumbled against her skin, still smelling the delicious lavender from their bath, "I just like seeing you in my bed. It's an incredible view."

She hummed as her eyes closed, her head tilting up. He kissed her softly, "get some sleep, Felicity," he whispered.

Her eyebrows furrowed, an adorable pout on her face, but her eyes were still closed. "Where are you going?" she sighed, her words slurring with the exhaustion that was moments away from pulling her under.

He grinned at how cute she was. He was such a damn a goner.

Shaking his head, he replied, "I'm just getting changed, but you don't look like you'll be awake ten seconds from now."

Her pout deepened, and her eyes reluctantly opened, slowly finding his. "I will," she said defiantly, "you still gotta feel what I just felt because... _phew_...I owe you one."

Oliver shook his head, his eyebrows pushing together. "You will never _owe_ me one, Felicity. Sleep, honey." He mumbled, frowning, not knowing if it was just her fatigue talking or if the assholes of her past had truly set that precedent in her mind. Her eyes closed again, and she nestled her head into the pillow, sighing. What he did with her in that bathtub was all about Felicity, pleasuring her and making her feel as relaxed as she did now. The way she exhaled, allowing herself to relax, no longer forcing herself to stay awake, made him hate any and every man who'd touched her before him. "I'll be right back," he whispered, brushing her hair away from her neck, exposing the purple mark he'd left on her neck.

She smiled, nodding with a quiet hum, and he was almost certain that she was already asleep, her expression peaceful. He hurried as he went to the closet, dried off, and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, hoping that she wouldn't be completely knocked out by the time he got into bed. 

Before he climbed in beside her, he shut the lights off, and when the bed dipped beneath him, he heard her sigh. As he settled in, burrowing under the blankets with her, Felicity moved towards him, and he opened his arm for her willingly. She hummed, kissing his chest softly before she got comfortable, her cheek pressed against his skin.

It wasn't long before he felt his own fatigue catching up to him, listening to Felicity's breath as he closed his eyes, absently running his hand through her hair.

He couldn't remember a night where falling asleep had ever felt so right.

* * *

At some point during the night, Felicity had rolled away from him to sprawl out on her side of the bed. That was the first problem. The second problem was that the gentle rain he'd fallen asleep to had turned into a storm. 

Thunder and lightning always evoked the same dream. The same nightmare. Without Felicity in his arms that night, there was no anchor to fight off the demons that plagued his subconscious. But they weren't really demons. He wasn't even sure he could call it a nightmare. It was a memory. 

The Queen's Gambit sank in his dreams, over and over, ever since he was thirteen. Thankfully, the dream had become less frequent as he got older, but that meant that it hit him ten times harder whenever he had it.

On the boat, he'd shared a room with Tommy, and he could still see his mother's pale and horrified face as she'd come to their door, telling them to hold on to something before she left to check on Thea, promising that she'd be back. It was the last time he saw his mother, and thanks to the dream, it was always the first image that came to mind when he thought of her. That fear on her face. The concern in her eyes that he now understood was dread...part of her probably understood the very real possibility that she'd never see her boys again.

He and Tommy had fallen to the floor between their beds, choosing to hold on to each other, sensing that something very bad was about to happen. They could hear the boat cracking and creaking with the strain of the storm, the crew screaming, trying to find a way to survive it. But Oliver somehow knew in his heart that they wouldn't, and the reality that washed over him was as terrifying as the storm.

Eventually, the boat became unrecognizable. He was tossed and thrown around the room. Disoriented and confused, he wasn't sure that he was even in his bedroom anymore, calling out for Tommy. Furniture was everywhere, the water ripping his whole world away from him, sucking it into its unforgiving and deadly clutches.

As the dream usually went, Tommy was screaming his name, somewhere far off, barely audible through the relentless waves and thunder. Oliver twitched in his sleep, trying to figure out which direction his friend's voice was coming from, but up was down, and the boat he grew up on seemed completely foreign. Tommy was calling out for help, but Oliver felt too disoriented to move, blood streaming from a gash on his head and into his eye, blurring his vision and making everything look even more bizarre. He tried to yell back, but his lungs were fighting for air, and he couldn't.

It was still the most helpless he had ever felt, more than anything he'd endured after that night, because he'd already lost everything. His life had seemed less valuable after that, which enabled him to survive.

Oliver tossed in his sleep, feeling the bedroom fill with water and wondering if he was about to die. He mumbled Tommy's name, Thea's name, called for his parents, but just like that night, no one in his dream came to his rescue. And just like every time before, the room split open, and he was staring up at the raging storm, watching the lightning flash. As the waves crashed over his head, too big and violent for him to keep his head above the water, her felt his lungs filling with salt water, and he jolted awake.

The first thing he was aware of as he threw himself out of bed was the sound of the thunder, recognizing it instantly and trying to get his brain to catch up. He wasn't on a boat. He wasn't thirteen. He was in his bedroom in Coast City and...his eyes flew back to the bed, where Felicity was sitting up, her eyes wide as she stared at him, wringing her hands together. His eyebrows furrowed, confused if she was even real or not.

"I read that you shouldn't wake people up when they're having night terrors. This article I found once said that it's best to let the person ride it out, because waking them up can only make them more agitated and violent. But you didn't seem angry, you were..." She brought her knees to her chest, and Oliver held his breath. "You were calling out for your family, and-I'm sorry." She blinked, a flash of annoyance crossing her face as she had to blink back tears that she clearly didn't want him to notice.

He glanced around the room, fighting through his haze, his heart still beating wildly in his chest. "Sorry for what?" he croaked as if he still had salty water filling his lungs. 

Felicity bit her lip, her eyebrows pushing together, "for waking you up." He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes and taking a moment to relax. Because he needed it. "Oliver..." she whispered once his breaths became more normal. He opened his eyes to look at her. "Come here," she laid back against the pillows, curling herself towards his side, patting the bed.

With a sigh, Oliver listened, going back to the bed and lying down. He faced her, and she slid closer until her face was inches from his. Then she touched his cheek, and he exhaled, feeling better as soon as her fingers touched him, soothed him. 

She noticed his reaction, looking back at him with complete curiosity. God, she really didn't understand the effect she had on him. The power. But she slipped her hand to his neck, and he closed his eyes, leaning towards her until he could rub his nose against hers. He laid still, focusing on the places of his body that she touched, feeling each of her fingers acutely, letting her relieve the tension in his back and shoulders.

After a few minutes of it, he felt as relaxed as he had before, after their bath, when he was falling asleep with her in his arms. He opened his eyes, and he was greeted by a soft smile on her lips. "Better?" She whispered.

He nodded slowly, swallowing as his eyes darted over her face, wanting to remember the expression on her face for the rest of his life. "How did you do that?" He mumbled back.

She shrugged, "you tell me,"

"Mmm," he hummed, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him until her body was pressed to his. "You feel so good," he breathed.

She sighed, winding her arm around his neck and hugging him as tightly as she possibly could, burying her head in his neck. He gripped her back just as hard, each passing moment bringing him back to the present, pulling him out of his nightmares, gently settling his body and soul back into that bed with her.

Running her hand up and down his back, Felicity leisurely hiked her leg around his waist, and his hand fell to her bare thigh, pushing the t-shirt up so he could spread his palm over her smooth skin. She _really_ felt good. He pulled back to look at her, and he was captivated by the same shyness on her face, the glint of arousal in her eyes, and just as he recognized it, Felicity rocked her hips against him, _rubbing_ him, and he hardened, his breath catching in his throat when she did it a second time.

He instinctively grabbed her waist, holding on as she ground into him again, pulling the shirt up to her waist, feeling her warmth through the thin panties she wore, _feeling_ her, even through his sweatpants. She rolled her hips again and again, and he was torn between wanting to keep feeling it, and wanting more. She groaned his name on her next thrust, and he felt her breath on his cheek. 

Picking his head up, Oliver brushed his lips against hers, pushing his own hips against hers, meeting her tiny movements. She groaned as he pulled her closer, guiding her hips, rubbing her up and down his length. He enjoyed how breathless she was, her attention divided between their hips and their mouths, kissing him with such passion one moment, and distracted the next as his cock rubbed against her clit. Her panties were soaking wet when he finally moved his hand down to push them aside, his fingers slipping in her juices. He groaned, thinking it was impossible to be turned on even more than he already was...but his cock twitched, hardening to the point of pain, aching to be touched by her. Aching for her. God, he wanted to feel her fingers wrap around him, stroking him up and down. 

As if she could read his mind, Felicity slipped her hand down his stomach, sliding to the waist of his sweatpants, and his hips moved mindlessly to meet her warm hand as she pushed it down and into his pants. "Oh, god," he sighed, "yes, Felicity." He squeezed his eyes shut as her hand gripped him tightly, tugging his length slowly.

She sucked on his bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth.

He really wasn't going to last long. Not at all. 

It'd been a long time, but it was her more than anything. Just the knowledge that Felicity was touching him in that moment was a turn on. The way she smelled, the way she kissed him, sent his senses into overdrive. His hips thrusted into her hand, chasing a release with more desperation than he'd ever felt before.

The sound of his alarm going off made them both freeze. And a moment later, he groaned, breathing heavily as he rolled over, her hand slipping out of his pants when he moved to shut it off. He sighed, "we have to get back to A.R.G.U.S."

Felicity was behind him a moment later, resting her chest against his back, her lips at his ear as she sucked his earlobe into her mouth. "After," she breathed, her voice thick with arousal, her hand sliding down his chest. He sighed, half aware and amused at their reversal of positions; his ear in her mouth as she supported his weight. She reached around him, shoving her hand back into his pants. "I want to feel you come first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver caught up to Rene, who is now in A.R.G.U.S custody. Oliver and Felicity went home where sexy things happened. Oliver has a nightmare about the night the boat went down, (basically angst) and then MORE sexy things happened.  
> Oliver also tells Felicity a little more about his scars. He has one on his hand from a fishing hook when Slade tried to teach him to fish. And a lot are from Billy Wintergreen, who came to the island looking for Slade, but Sara and Oliver had already "killed" him, which Billy found hard to believe, so he tortured Oliver in an attempt to find out where Slade was.  
> So next chapter they'll be going back to A.R.G.U.S to deal with Rene. I'm excited. John and Lyla are about to drop some bombs on Oliver, and Sara will be back! Yay!!


End file.
